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£.  FERRETT  &  CO.  G8  S.  FOURTH  STREET. 
1845. 


Barrett  &  Jones,  Printers, 
No.   34  Carter's  Alley. 


CONTENTS 


BOOK  I. 

Chap.  1. — Venice. 

II.— The  Banditti. 

III.— The  Trial  of  Strength. 

IV.— The  Daggers. 

v.— Solitude. 

VI Rosabella,  the  Doge's  lovely  Niece. 

VII.— The  Bravo's  Bride. 

VIII The  Conspiracy. 

IX. — Cynthia's  Dwelling. 

BOOK  II. 

Chap.  I.— The  Birthday. 

II. — The  Florentine  Stranger. 

III. — More  Confusion. 

IV.— The  Violet. 

V. — The  Assassin. 

VI. — The  two  greatest  men  in  Venice. 

BOOK  III. 

Chap.  I. — The  Lovers. 

II. — A  dangerous  Promise. 

Ill The  Midnight  Meeting. 

IV. — The  decisive  Day. 
V. — The  Clock  strikes  five  ! 
VI. — Apparitions. 
VII — Conclusion. 


BOOK  I 


ABELLINO. 


CHAPTER  I. 

VENICE. 

It  was  evening.  Multitudes  of  light  clouds, 
partially  illumined  by  the  moon-beams,  over- 
spread the  horizon,  and  through  them  float- 
ed the  full  moon  in  tranquil  majesty,  while 
her  splendor  was  reflected  by  every  wave  of 
the  Adriatic  Sea.  All  was  hushed  around  ; 
gently  was  the  water  rippled  by  the  night 
wind  ;  gently  did  the  night  wind  sigh  through 
the  colonnades  of  Venice. 

It  was  midnight — and  still  sat  a  stranger, 
solitary  and  sad,  on  the  border  of  the  great 
canal.  Now  with  a  glance  he  measured  the 
battlements  and  proud  towers  of  the  city ; 
and  now  he  fixed  his  melancholy  eyes  upon 
the  waters  with  a  vacant  stare.  At  length 
he  spoke  : 

"  Wretch  that  I  am  !  Whither  shall  I  go  ? 
Here  sit  I  in  Venice,  and  what  would  it  avail 
to  wander  further  ?  What  will  become  of 
me?     All  now  slumber  save  myself!    The 


8  ABELLINO. 

Doge  rests  on  his  couch  of  down  ;  the  beg- 
gar's head  presses  his  straw  pillow  ;  but  for 
me  there  is  no  bed  except  the  cold,  damp 
earth  !  There  is  no  gondolier  so  wretched, 
but  he  knows  where  to  find  work  by  day, 
and  shelter  by  night — while  I — while  I — 
Oh !  dreadful  is  the  destiny  of  which  I  am 
made  the  sport !" 

He  began  to  examine  for  the  twentieth 
time  the  pockets  of  his  tattered  garments. 

"  No  !  not  one  paolo,  by  heavens ! — and  I 
hunger  almost  to  death  !" 

He  unsheathed  his  sword  ;  he  w^aved  it  in 
the  moonshine,  and  sighed  as  he  marked  the 
glittering  of  the  steel. 

"  No,  no !  my  old  and  true  companion, 
thou  and  I  must  never  part !  Mine  thou 
shalt  remain,  though  I  starve  for  it ! — Oh ! 
was  not  that  a  golden  time  when  Valeria 
gave  thee  to  me,  and  when  as  she  threw  the 
belt  over  my  shoulders,  I  kissed  thee  and 
Valeria?  She  has  deserted  us  for  another 
world,  but  thou  and  I  w^ill  never  part  in 
this." 

He  wiped  away  a  drop  which  hung  upon 
his  eyelid. 

"  Psha  !  'twas  not  a  tear!  the  night  wind 
is  sharp  and  bitter,  and  makes  the  eyes  wa- 
ter ;  but  as  for  tears — absurd  !  my  weeping 
days  are  over !" 

And  as  he  spoke,  the  unfortunate  (for  such 


ABELLINO.  y 

by  his  discourse  and  situation  he  appeared 
to  be)  dashed  his  forehead  against  the  earth, 
and  his  lips  were  already  unclosed  to  curse 
the  hour  which  gave  him  being,  when  he 
suddenly  seemed  to  recollect  himself.  He 
rested  his  head  on  his  elbow,  and  sang 
mournfully  the  burden  of  a  song  which  had 
often  delighted  his  childhood  in  the  casde 
of  his  ancestors. 

"  Right !"  he  said  to  himself;  "  were  I  to 
sink  under  the  weight  of  my  destiny,  I 
should  be  myself  no  longer." 

At  that  moment  he  heard  a  rustling  at  no 
great  distance.  He  looked  around,  and  in 
an  adjacent  street,  which  the  moon  faintly 
enlightened,  he  perceived  a  tall  figure  wrap- 
ped in  a  cloak,  pacing  slowly  backwards  and 
forwards. 

"  'Tis  the  hand  of  God,  which  hath  guid- 
ed him  hither— Yes  !  I'll— I'll  heg!  Better 
to  play  the  beggar  in  Venice,  than  the  villain 
in  Naples  ;  for  the  beggar's  heart  may  beat 
nobly,  though  covered  by  rags." 

He  said,  sprang  from  the  ground,  and  has- 
tened towards  the  adjoining  street.  Just  as 
he  entered  it  at  one  end,  he  perceived  ano- 
ther person  advancing  through  the  other  ;  of 
whose  approach  the  first  was  no  sooner 
aware,  than  he  hastily  retired  into  the  sha- 
dow of  a  piazza,  as  if  anxious  to  conceal 
himself. 


10  ABELLINO. 

"  What  can  this  mean  ?"  thought  our 
mendicant.  "  Is  yon  eaves-dropper  one  of 
death's  unlicensed  ministers  ?  Has  he  re- 
ceived the  retaining  fee  of  some  impatient 
heir,  who  pants  to  possess  the  wealth  of  the 
unlucky  knave  who  comes  strolling  along 
yonder  so  careless  and  unconscious  ? — be  not 
so  confident,  honest  friend !  I  am  at  your 
elbow." 

He  retired  further  into  the  shade,  and  si- 
lently and  slowly  drew  near  the  lurker,  who 
stirred  not  from  his  place.  The  stranger 
had  already  passed  them  by,  when  the  con- 
cealed villain  sprang  suddenly  upon  him, 
and  raised  his  right  hand  in  which  a  poniard 
w^as  gleaming  ;  but  before  he  could  give  the 
blow,  was  felled  to  the  earth  by  the  arm  of 
the  mendicant. 

The  stranger  turned  hastily  tow^ards  them, 
the  Bravo  started  up  and  fled  ;  the  beggar 
smiled. 

"  How  now  ?"  cried  the  stranger ;  "  w^hat 
does  all  this  mean  .?" 

"  Oh!  'tis  a  mere  jest,  Seignior,  which 
has  only  preserved  your  life." 

"  What  ?  My  life  ?  How  so  ?" 

"  The  honest  gentleman  who  has  just  ta- 
ken to  his  heels,  stole  behind  you  with  true 
cat-like  caution,  and  had  already  raised  his 
dagger  when  I  saw  him. — You  owe  your 
life  to  me,  and  the  service  is  richly  worth 


ABELLINO.  11 

one  little  piece  of  money  !  Give  me  some 
alms,  Seignior,  for  on  my  soul  I  am  hungry, 
thirsty,  cold—" 

"  Hence,  scurvy  companion  !  I  know  you 
and  your  tricks  too  well.  This  is  all  a  con- 
certed scheme  between  you,  a  design  upon 
ray  purse,  an  attempt  to  procure  both  money 
and  thanks  under  the  lame  pretence  of  hav- 
ing saved  me  from  an  assassin. — Go,  fellow, 
go  !  practice  these  dainty  devices  on  the 
Doge's  credulity,  if  you  will ;  but  with  Buo- 
narotti  you  stand  no  chance,  believe  me." 

The  wretched,  starving  beggar  stood  like 
one  petrified,  and  gazed  on  the  taunting 
stranger. 

"No;  as  I  have  a  soul  to  save,  Seignior, 
'tis  no  lie  that  I  tell  you  ;  'tis  the  plain  truth  ; 
have  compassion,  or  I  die  this  night  of  hun- 
ger." 

"  Begone  this  instant,  I  say,  or  by  hea- 
ven"— 

The  unfeeling  man  here  drew  out  a  con- 
cealed pistol,  and  pointed  it  at  his  preserver. 

"  Merciful  heaven  !  and  is  it  thus  that  ser- 
vices are  acknowledged  in  Venice  ?" 

"  The  watch  is  at  no  great  distance  ;  I 
need  only  raise  my  voice,  and — " 

"  Hell  and  confusion  !  Do  you  take  me 
for  a  robber  then  ?" 

"  Make  no  noise,  I  tell  you !  Be  quiet, 
you  had  better — " 


12  ABELLINO. 

"  Hark  you,  Seignior  !  Buonarotti  is  your 
name,  I  think  ?  I  will  write  it  down,  as  be- 
longing to  the  second  scoundrel  with  whom 
I  have  met  in  Venice  !" 

He  paused  for  a  moment;  then  continuing 
in  a  dreadful  voice, — ''  And  w^hen,"  said 
he,  "  thou,  Buonarotti,  shalt  hereafter  hear 
the  name  of  Abelltno — trejnble  /" 

Abaellino  turned  away,  and  left  the  hard 
hearted  Venetian. 


ABELLINO.  13 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE      BANDITTI. 

And  now  rushed  the  unfortunate  wildly 
through  the  streets  of  Venice  :  he  railed  at 
fortune ;  he  laughed  and  cursed  by  turns  ; 
yet  sometimes  he  suddenly  stood  still,  seem- 
ed as  pondering  on  some  great  and  wonder- 
ous  enterprise,  and  then  again  rushed 
onwards  as  if  hastening  to  its  execution. 

Propped  against  a  column  of  the  Signio- 
ria,  he  counted  over  the  whole  sum  of  his 
misfortunes.  His  wandering  eye-balls  seem- 
ed to  seek  comfort ;  but  they  found  it  not. 

"  Fate,"  he  at  length  exclaimed  in  a  par- 
oxysm of  despair,  "  Fate  has  condemned 
me  to  be  either  the  wildest  of  adventurers — 
or  one,  at  the  relation  of  whose  crimes  the 
world  must  shudder !  To  astonish  is  my 
destiny  :  Rosalvo  can  know  no  medium  : 
Rosalvo  can  never  act  like  common  men  ! — 
Is  it  not  the  hand  of  fate  which  has  led  me 
hither  ?  Who  could  have  ever  dreamed  that 
the  son  of  the  richest  lord  in  Naples  should 
have  depended  for  a  beggar's  alms  on  Vene- 
tian charity !  / — 7,  who  feel  myself  possess- 
ed of  strength  of  body  and  energy  of  soul 
2 


14  ABELLINO. 

fit  for  executing  the  most  daring  deeds — be- 
hold me  creeping  in  rags  through  the  streets 
of  this  inhospitable  city,  and  torturing  ray 
wits  in  vain  to  discover  some  means  by 
which  I  may  rescue  life  from  the  jfiws  of 
famine  !  Those  men  whom  my  munificence 
nourished,  who  at  my  table  bathed  their 
worthless  souls  in  the  choicest  wine  of  Cy- 
prus, and  glutted  themselves  with  every 
kind  of  delicacy  which  the  globe's  four 
quarters  could  supply,  those  very  men  now 
deny  to  my  necessity  even  a  miserable  crust 
of  mouldy  bread. — Oh!  that  is  dreadful 
cruel  !     Cruel  of  men  !  cruel  of  Heaven  !" 

He  paused  ;  he  folded  his  arms  and  sighed. 

"  Yet  will  I  bear  it !  I  will  submit  to  my 
destiny  !  I  will  traverse  every  path,  and  go 
through  every  degree  of  human  wretched- 
ness ;  and  whatever  may  be  my  fate,  I  will 
be  still  myself,  and  whatever  may  be  my 
fate,  I  will  still  act  greatly  ! — Away  then 
with  the  Count  Rosalvo,  whom  once  all 
Naples  idolized  ;  now — now  am  I  the  beggar 
AbeUino  !  A  beggar? — that  name  stands 
last  in  the  scale  of  worldly  rank,  hwifirst'm 
the  lists  of  the  famishing,  the  outcast,  and 
the  unworthy." 

Something  rustled  near  him. — Abellino 
gazed  around.  He  was  aware  of  the  Bravo 
whom  he  had  struck  to  the  ground  that  night 
and   W'hom  two   companions   of   a  similar 


ABELLINO.  15 

stamp  had  now  joined.  As  they  advanced, 
they  cast  inquiring  glances  around  them. — 
They  were  in  search  of  some  one. 

"It  is  of  thee  that  they  are  in  search," 
said  Abellino  ;  then  advanced  a  few  paces, 
and  whistled. 

The  ruffians  stood  still — they  whispered 
together,  and  seemed  to  be  undecided. 

Abellino  whistled  a  second  time. 

"  'Tis  he  !"  he  could  hear  one  of  them 
say  distinctly  ;  and  in  a  moment  after  they 
advanced  slowly  towards  him. 

xA.bellino  kept  his  place,  but  unsheathed 
his  sword.  The  three  unknown  (they  were 
masked)  stopped  a  few  paces  from  him. 

"  How  now,  fellow?"  quoth  one  of  them, 
"  what  is  the  matter  ?  why  stand  you  on 
your  guard  ?" 

Ahellino. — It  is  as  well  that  you  should 
be  made  to  keep  your  distance,  for  I  know 
>ou  ;  you  are  certain  honest  gentlemen,  who 
live  by  taking  away  the  lives  of  others. 

First  Ruffian. — Was  not  your  whistling 
addressed  to  us  ? 

Ahellino. — It  w^as. 

Ruffian. — And  what  would  you  of  us  ? 

Abellino. — Hear  'me !  I  am  a  miserable 
wretch,  and  starving ;  give  me  an  alms  out 
of  your  booty  ! 

Ruffian. — An  alms  ?  ha  !  ha  !  ha !  By  my 


16  ABELLINO. 

soul,  that  is  whimsical ! — Alms  from  us  in- 
deed ! — Oh  !  by  all  means !  No  doubt,  you 
shall  have  alms  a  plenty. 

Ahellino. — Or  else  give  me  fifty  sequins, 
and  I'll  bind  myself  to  your  service  till  I 
shall  have  worked  out  my  debt. 

Ruffian. — Aye  !  and  pray  then  who  may 
you  be  ? 

Abellino. — A  starving  wretch,  the  repub- 
lic holds  none  more  miserable.  Such  am  I 
at  present;  but  hereafter — I  have  powers, 
knaves — this  arm  could  pierce  an  heart, 
though  guarded  by  three  breastplates ;  this 
eye,  though  surrounded  by  Egyptian  dark- 
ness, could  still  see  to  stab  sure. 

Ruffian. — Why  then  did  you  strike  me 
down  even  now  ? 

Ahellino. — In  the  hope  of  being  paid  for 
it ;  but  though  I  saved  his  life,  the  scoundrel 
gave  me  not  a  single  ducat. 

Ruffian. — No  ?  so  much  the  better.  But 
hark  ye,  comrade !  are  you  sincere  ? 

Ahellino, — Despair  never  lies. 

Ruffian. — Slave,  shouldst  thou  be  a  trai- 
tor— 

Ahellino. — My  heart  would  be  within 
reach  of  your  hands,  and  your  daggers 
would  be  as  sharp  as  now. 

The  three  dangerous  companions  again 
whispered  among  themselves  for  a  few  mo- 


ABELLINO. 


17 


ments,  after  which  they  returned  their  dag- 
gers into  the  sheath. 

"  Come  on  then,"  said  one  of  them  ;  ^'fol- 
low us  to  our  home.  It  were  unwise  to  talk 
over  certain  matters  in  the  open  street." 

"  I  follow  you,"  was  Abellino's  answ^er  ; 
"  but  tremble,  should  any  one  of  you  dare 
to  treat  me  as  a  foe. — Comrade,  forgive  me 
that  I  gave  your  ribs  somew^hat  too  hard  a 
squeeze  just  now  ;  I  w'ill  be  your  sworn  bro- 
ther in  recompense." 

"  We  are  on  honor,"  cried  the  banditti 
with  one  voice  ;  "  no  harm  shall  happen  to 
you :  he  who  does  you  an  injury,  shall  be  to 
us  a  foe.  A  fellow  of  your  humor  suits  us 
well  :  follow^  Us,  and  fear  not." 

And  on  they  went,  Abellino  marching 
between  two  of  them.  Frequent  were  the 
looks  of  suspicion,  which  he  cast  around 
him  ;  but  no  ill  design  was  perceptible  in 
the  banditti.  They  guided  him  onwards, 
till  they  reached  a  canal,  loosened  a  gondo- 
la, placed  themselves  in  it,  and  row^ed  till 
they  had  gained  the  most  remote  quarter  of 
Venice.  They  landed  ;  treaded  several  bye 
streets,  and  at  length  knocked  at  the  door 
of  a  house  of  no  inviting  appearance.  It 
was  opened  by  a  young  woman  who  con- 
ducted them  into  a  plain  but  comfortable 
chamber.  Many  were  the  looks  of  surprise 
2* 


18  ABELLINO. 

and  inquiry  which  she  cast  on  the  bewil- 
dered, half-pleased,  half-anxious  Abellino, 
w^ho  knew  not  whither  he  had  been  convey- 
ed, and  still  thought  it  unsafe  to  confide  en- 
tirely in  the  promises  of  the  banditti. 


ABELLTNO.  19 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    TRIAL    OF    STRENGTH, 

Scarcely  were  the  bravos  seated,  when 
Cynthia  (for  that  was  the  young  woman's 
name)  was  again  summoned  to  the  door ; 
and  the  company  was  now  increased  by  two 
new  comers  who  examined  their  unknown 
guest  from  head  to  foot. 

''  Now  then,"  cried  one  of  those  who  had 
conducted  AbelUno  to  this  respectable  so- 
ciety, "let  us  see  what  you  are  like." 

As  he  said  this,  he  raised  a  burning  lamp 
from  the  table,  and  the  light  of  its  flame  was 
thrown  full  upon  Abellino's  countenance. 

"Lord  forgive  me  my  sins!"  screamed 
Cynthia;  "out  upon  him!  what  an  ugly 
hound  it  is!" 

She  turned  hastily  round,  and  hid  herface 
with  her  hands.  Dreadful  was  the  look  with 
which  Abellino  repaid   her  compliment. 

"  Knave,"  said  one  of  the  banditti,  "  na- 
ture's own  hand  has  marked  you  out  for  an 
assassin — come,  pray  thee,  be  frank,  and  tell 
us  how  thou  hast  contrived  so  long  to  escape 
the  gibbet  ?  In  what  jail  didst  thou  leave 
thy  last  fetters  ?     Or  from  what  galley  hast 


20  ABELLINO. 

thou  taken  thy  departure,  without  staying  to 
say  adieu?" 

Abellino  folded  his  arms. 

''  If  I  be  such  as  you  describe,"  said  he 
with  an  air  of  authority,  and  in  a  voice 
which  made  his  hearers  tremble,  "  'tis  for 
me  all  the  better.  Whatever  may  be  my 
future  mode  of  life,  Heaven  can  have  no 
right  to  find  fault  with  it,  since  it  was  for 
that  it  formed  and  fitted  me." 

The  five  bravos  stepped  aside,  and  con- 
sulted together;  the  subject  of  their  con- 
ference is  easy  to  be  divined.  In  the 
meanwhile  Abellino  remained  quiet  and 
indifferent  to  what  w^as  passing. 

After  a  few  minutes  they  again  approach- 
ed him  :  one,  whose  countenance  was  the 
most  ferocious,  and  whose  form  exhibited 
the  greatest  marks  of  muscular  strength,  ad- 
vanced a  few  paces  before  the  rest,  and  ad- 
dressed Abellino  as  folio w^s  : 

"  Hear  me,  comrade.  In  Venice  there 
exist  but  five  banditti ;  you  see  them  before 
you  :  \vilt  thou  be  the  sixth  ?  Doubt  not 
thou  wilt  find  sufficient  employment.  My 
name  is  Matteo,  and  I  am  the  father  of  the 
band  :  that  sturdy  fellow  with  the  red  locks 
is  called  Baluzzo  ;  he,  w^hose  eyes  twinkle 
like  a  cat's,  is  Tomaso  ;  an  arch  knave,  I 
promise  you  !  'twas  Petrino,  w^hose  bones 
you  handled  so  roughly  to-night ;  and  yon 


ABELLINO.  21 

thick-lipped  Colossus,  who  stands  next  to 
Cynthia,  is  named  Struzzo.  Now  then  you 
know  us  all  ;  and  since  you  are  a  pennyless 
devil,  we  are  willing  to  incorporate  you  in 
our  society  ;  but  we  must  first  be  assured 
that  you  mean  honestly  by  us." 

Abellino  smiled,  or  rather  grinned,  and 
murmured  hoarsely,  "  I  am  starving." 

"Answer,  fellow  !  Dost  thou  mean  hon- 
estly by  us?" 

"  That  must  the  event  decide." 

"Mark  me,  knave;  the  first  suspicion  of 
treachery  costs  you  your  life.  Take  shelter 
in  the  Doge's  palace,  and  girdle  yourself 
round  with  all  the  power  of  the  republic  ; 
though  clasped  in  the  Doge's  arms,  and  pro- 
tected by  an  hundred  cannons  ;  still  would 
we  murder  you  !  Fly  to  the  high  altar ; 
press  the  crucifix  to  your  bosom  ;  and  even 
at  mid'day — still  would  we  murder  you. — 
Think  on  this  well,  fellow,  and  forget  not 
we  are  a  banditti .'" 

"  You  need  not  tell  me  that ;  but  give  me 
some  food,  and  then  I'll  prate  with  you  as 
long  as  you  please.  At  present  I  am  starv- 
ing! Four  and  twenty  hours  have  elapsed 
since  I  last  tasted  nourishment." 

Cynthia  now  covered  a  small  table  with 
her  best  provisions,  and  filled  several  silver 
goblets  with  delicious  wine. 

"  If  one   could   but  look  at  him  without 


22  ABELLINO. 

disgust,"  inurmured  Cynthia;  "  if  he  had 
but  the  appearance  of  something  human  ! 
Satan  must  certainly  have  appeared  to  his 
mother  while  she  was  big  with  him ;  and 
thence  came  her  child  into  the  world  with 
such  a  frightful  countenance  !  Ugh !  It's 
an  absolute  mask ;  only  that  I  never  saw  a 
mask  so  hideous  !" 

Abellino  heeded  her  not :  he  placed  him- 
self at  the  table,  and  ate  and  drank  as  if  he 
would  have  satisfied  himself  for  the  next  six 
months.  The  banditti  eyed  him  with  looks 
of  satisfaction,  and  congratulated  each  other 
on  so  valuable  an  acquisition. 

If  the  reader  is  curious  to  know  w^hatthis 
same  Abellino  is  like,  he  must  figure  to 
himself  a  stout  young  fellow,  w^hose  limbs 
perhaps  might  have  been  thought  not  ill- 
formed,  had  not  the  most  horrible  counte- 
nance that  ever  was  invented  by  a  caricaturist, 
or  that  Milton  could  have  adapted  to  the  ug- 
liness of  his  fallen  angels,  entirely  marred 
the  advantages  of  his  person.  Black  and 
shining,  but  long  and  straight,  his  hair  flew 
wildly  about  his  brown  neck  and  yellow 
face.  His  mouth  was  so  wide  that  his  gums 
and  discoloured  teeth  w^ere  visible,  and  a 
kind  of  convulsive  twist  which  scarcely  ever 
was  at  rest,  had  formed  its  expression  into 
an  eternal  grin.  His  eye  (for  he  had  but 
one)  was  sunk  deep  into  his  head,  and  little 


ABELLINO.  23 

more  than  the  white  of  it  was  visible  ;  and 
even  that  Uttle  was  oversha(]owed  by  the 
protrusion  of  his  dark  and  bushy  eye-brow. 
In  the  union  of  his  features  were  found  col- 
lected in  one  hideous  assemblage,  all  the 
most  coarse  and  uncouth  traits  which  ever 
had  been  exhibited  singly  in  wooden  cuts  ; 
and  the  observer  was  left  in  doubt,  whether 
this  repulsive  physiognomy  expressed  stu- 
pidity of  intellect,  or  maliciousness  of  heart, 
or  whether  it  implied  them  both  together. 

"  Now  then  I  am  satisfied !"  roared 
Abellino,  and  dashed  the  still-full  goblet 
upon  the  ground  ;  "  speak  !  what  would  you 
know  of  me?  I  am  ready  to  give  you  an- 
swers." 

"  The  first  thing,"  replied  Matteo,  "  the 
first  thing  necessary  is  to  give  us  a  proof  of 
your  strength,  for  this  is  of  material  impor- 
tance in  our  undertakings.  Are  you  good 
at  wrestling?" 

*'I  know  not:  try  me." 

"  Cynthia,  remove  the  table.  Now  then, 
Abellino,  which  of  us  will  you  undertake  ? 
whom  amongst  us  dost  think  thou  canst 
knock  down  as  easy  as  yon  poor  dabbler  in 
the  art,  Petrino  ?" 

"Which  of  you?"  cried  Abellino  ;  "all 
of  you  together,  and  half  a  dozen  more  such 
pitiful  scoundrels!"  And  he  sprang  from 
his  seat,  threw  his  sword  on  the  table,  and 


24  ABELLINO. 

measured  the  strength  of  his  antagonist  with 
a  single  eye. 

The  banditti  burst  into  a  loud  fit  of  laugh- 
ter. 

"Now  then,"  cried  Abellino  fiercely; 
"  now  then  for  the  trial !  Why  come  you 
not  on  ?" 

"  Fellow,"  replied  Matteo,  "  take  my  ad- 
vice ;  try  first  w^hat  you  can  do  wdth  me 
alone,  and  learn  what  sort  of  men  you  have 
to  manage.  Think  you  we  are  marrowless 
boys,  or  delicate  Seigniors,  who  waste  their 
strength  in  the  embrace  of  harlots?" 

Abellino  answered  him  with  a  scornful 
laugh — Matteo  became  furious  :  his  compan- 
ions shouted  aloud  and  clapped  their  hands. 
"To  business!"  said  Abellino;  "I'm 
now  in  the  right  humor  for  sport !  Look  to 
yourselves,  my  lads  !"  And  in  the  same  in- 
stant he  collected  his  forces  together,  threw 
the  gigantic  Matteo  over  his  head  as  if  he 
had  been  an  infant,  knocked  Struzzo  down 
on  the  right  hand,  and  Petrino  on  the  left, 
tumbled  Tomaso  to  the  end  of  the  room, 
head  over  heels,  and  stretched  Baluzzo 
without  animation  upon  the  neighboring 
benches. 

Three  minutes  elapsed,  ere  the  subdued 
bravos  could  recover  themselves  ;  loud  shout- 
ed Abellino,  while  the  astonished  Cynthia 


ABELLINO.  25 

gazed  and  trembled  at  the  terrible  exhibi- 
tion. 

"  By  the  blood  of  St.  Januarius,"  cried 
Matteo,  at  length  rubbing  his  battered  joints, 
"  the  fellow  is  our  master.  Cynthia,  take 
care  to  give  him  our  best  chamber." 

"  He  must  have  made  a  compact  with  the 
devil,"  grumbled  Tomaso,  and  forced  his 
dislocated  wrist  back  into  its  socket. 

No  one  seemed  inclined  to  hazard  a  se- 
cond trial  of  strength.  The  night  was  far 
advanced,  or  rather  the  grey  of  the  morning 
already  was  visible  over  the  sea.  The  ban- 
ditti separated,  and  each  retired  to  his 
chamber. 


26  ABELLINO. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    DAGGERS. 

Abellino,  this  Italian  Hercules,  all  ter- 
rible as  he  appeared  to  be,  was  not  long  a 
member  of  this  society,  before  his  compan- 
ions felt  towards  him  sentiments  of  the  most 
unbounded  esteem.  All  loved,  all  valued 
him  for  his  extraordinary  talents  for  a  bravo's 
trade,  to  which  he  seemed  peculiarly  adapt- 
ed, not  only  by  his  wonderful  strength  of  bo- 
dy, but  by  the  readiness  of  his  wit,  and  his 
never  failing  presence  of  mind.  Even  Cyn- 
thia was  inclined  to  feel  some  little  affection 
for  him,  but  he  was  really  too  ugly. 

Matteo  (as  Abellino  was  given  to  under- 
stand) was  the  captain  of  this  dangerous 
troop.  He  was  one  who  carried  villany  to 
the  highest  pitch  of  refinement,  incapable  of 
fear,  quick  and  crafty,  and  troubled  with 
less  conscience  than  an  English  financier. 
The  booty  and  price  of  blood  which  his 
associates  brought  in  daily,  were  always 
delivered  up  to  him :  he  gave  each  man  his 
share,  and  retained  no  larger  portion  for 
himself  than  was  allotted  to  the  others.    The 


ABELLINO.  27 

catalogue  of  those  whom  he  had  dispatched 
into  the  other  world,  w^as  already  too  long 
for  him  to  have  repeated  it :  many  names 
had  slipped  his  memory;  but  his  greatest 
pleasure  in  his  hours  of  relaxation,  was  to 
relate  such  of  these  murderous  anecdotes  as 
he  still  remembered,  in  the  benevolent  in- 
tention of  inspiring  his  hearers  with  a  desire 
to  follow  his  example.  His  weapons  were 
kept  separate  from  the  rest,  and  occupied  a 
whole  apartment.  Here  were  to  be  found 
daggers  of  a  thousand  different  fashions, 
with  guards  and  without  them  ;  two,  three, 
and  four  edged.  Here  were  stored  air-guns, 
pistols  and  blunderbusses;  poisons  of  various 
kinds,  and  operating  in  various  ways;  gar- 
ments fit  for  every  possible  disguise,  whe- 
ther to  personate  the  monk,  the  Jew,  or  the 
mendicant,  the  soldier,  the  senator,  or  the 
gondolier. 

One  day  he  summoned  Abellino  to  attend 
him  in  his  armory. 

"Mark  me,"  said  he,  "thou  wilt  turn  out 
a  brave  fellow,  that  I  can  see  already.  It 
is  now  time  that  you  should  earn  that  bread 
for  yourself,  which  hitherto  you  have  owed 
to  our  bounty. — Look  !  here  hast  thou  a 
dagger  of  the  finest  steel;  you  must  charge 
for  its  use  by  the  inch.  If  you  plunge  it 
only  one  inch  deep  into  the  bosom  of  his  foe, 
your  employer  must  reward  you  with  only 


28  ABELLINO. 

one  sequin,  if  two  inches,  with  ten  sequins; 
if  three,  with  twenty;  if  the  whole  dagsjer, 
you  may  then  name  your  own  price. — Here 
is  next  a  glass  poniard  ;  whomsoever  this 
pierces,  that  man's  death  is  certain.  As  soon 
as  the  blow  is  given,  you  must  break  the 
dagger  in  the  wound;  the  flesh  will  close 
over  the  point  w^hich  has  been  broken  off, 
and  which  will  keep  its  quarters  till  the  day 
of  resurrection. — Lastly,  observe  this  metal- 
ic  dagger;  its  cavity  conceals  a  subtle  poison, 
w^hich,  whenever  you  touch  this  spring, 
will  immediately  infuse  death  into  the  veins 
of  him  whom  the  w^eapon's  point  hath 
w^ounded. — Take  these  daggers:  in  giving 
them  I  present  you  with  a  capital  capable  of 
bringing  home  to  you  the  most  heavy  and 
most  precious  interest." 

Abellino    received    the    instruments    of 
death;  but  his  hand  shook  as  it  grasped  them. 

"Possessed  of  such  unfailing  weapons,  of 
w^hat  immense  sums  must  your  robberies 
have  made  you  master!" 

"Scoundrel!"  interrupted  Matteo,  frown- 
ing and  offended,  "among  us  robbery  is  un- 
known. What?  dost  take  us  for  common 
plunderers,  for  mere  thieves,  cut-purses, 
house-breakers,  and  villains  of  that  low, 
miserable  stamp?" 

"Perhaps  what  you  wish  me  to  take  you 
for  is  something  worse;  for  to  speak  openly, 


ABELLINO.  29 

Matteo,  villains  of  that  stamp  are  contented 
with  plundering  a  purse  or  a  casket,  which 
can  easily  be  filled  again  ;  but  that  which 
we  take  from  others,  is  a  jewel  which  a  man 
never  has  but  once,  and  which,  once  stolen, 
can  never  be  replaced.  Are  we  not  then  a 
thousand  times  more  atrocious  plunderers?" 

"By  the  house  at  Loretto,  I  think  you 
have  a  mind  to  moralize,  AbelUno?" 

"Hark  ye,  Matteo,  only  one  question;  at 
the  day  of  judgment,  which  think  you  will 
hold  his  head  the  highest,  the  thief  or  the 


assassin 


?" 


"Ha!  ha!  ha!" 

"Think  not,  that  Abellino  speaks  thus 
from  want  of  resolution.  Speak  but  the 
word,  and  I  murder  half  the  senators  of  Ve- 
nice; but  still — " 

"Fool!  know,  the  bravo  must  be  above 
crediting  the  nurse's  antiquated  tales  of  vice 
and  virtue.  What  is  virtue?  what  is  vice? 
nothing  but  such  things  as  forms  of  govern- 
ment, customs,  manners,  and  education  have 
made  sacred;  and  that  which  men  are  able 
to  make  honorable  at  one  time,  it  is  in  their 
power  to  make  dishonorable  at  another, 
whenever  the  humour  takes  them:  had  not 
the  senate  forbidden  us  to  give  opinions 
freely  respecting  the  politics  of  Venice,  there 
would  have  been  nothing  wrong  in  giving 
such  opinions;  and  were  the  senate  to  de- 
3* 


30  ABELLINO. 

clare  that  it  is  right  to  give  such  opinions, 
that  which  is  to-day  thought  a  crime,  would 
be  thought  meritorious  to-morrow — then 
pr'ythee,  let  us  have  no  more  such  doubts 
as  these.  We  are  men,  such  as  the  Doge 
and  his  senators,  and  have  reason  as  much 
as  they  have,  to  lay  down  the  law  of  right 
and  wrong,  and  decree  what  shall  be  vice, 
and  what  shall  be  virtue." 

Abellino     laughed — Matteo     proceeded 
w^ith  increased  animation: 

"Perhaps  you  will  tell  me,  our  trade  is 
disJwnorable!  and  what  then,  is  the  thing 
called  ho7ior9  'Tis  a  word,  an  empty  sound, 
a  mere  fantastic  creature  of  the  imagina- 
tion!— Ask,  as  you  traverse  some  unfrequent- 
ed street,  in  what  honor  consists? — the  usu- 
rer will  answer,  'To  be  honourable  is  to  be 
rich;  and  he  has  most  honor,  who  can  heap 
up  the  greatest  quantity  of  sequins.'  'By 
no  means,'  cries  the  voluptuary;  'honor 
consists  in  being  beloved  by  every  handsome 
woman,  and  finding  no  virtue  proof  against 
your  attacks.'  'How  mistaken!  interrupts 
the  general;  'to  conquer  whole  cities,  to 
destroy  whole  armies,  to  ruin  whole  provin- 
ces— that  indeed  brings  7rMl  honour!'  The 
man  of  learning  places  his  renown  in  the 
number  of  pages  which  he  has  either  writ- 
ten or  read;  the  tinker  in  the  number  of 
pots  and    kettles  which    he    has    made  or 


ABELLINO.  31 

mended;  the  nun  in  the  number  of  good 
things  which  she  has  done,  or  had  things 
which  she  has  resisted;  the  coquette,  in  the 
list  of  her  admirers;  the  repubhc,  in  the 
extent  of  her  provinces:  and  thus,  my  friend, 
every  one  thinks  that  honour  consists  in 
something  different  from  the  rest.  And 
why,  then,  should  not  the  bravo  think,  that 
honor  consists  in  reaching  the  perfection  of 
his  trade,  and  in  guiding  a  dagger  to  the 
heart  of  an  enemy  with  unerring  aim?" 

"By  my  Ufe,  'tis  a  pity,  Matteo,  that  you 
should  be  a  brav^o;  the  schools  have  lost  an 
excellent  teacher  of  philosophy!" 

"Do  you  think  so? — Why  the  fact  is  thus, 
Abellino — I  was  educated  in  a  monastery: 
my  father  was  a  dignified  prelate  in  Lucca, 
and  my  mother  a  nun  of  the  Ursuline  order, 
greatly  respected  for  her  chastity  and  devo- 
tion. Now,  Seignior,  it  was  thought  fitting 
that  I  should  apply  closely  to  my  studies; 
my  father,  good  man,  would  fain  have  made 
me  a  light  of  the  church;  but  I  soon  found, 
that  I  was  better  quaUfied  for  an  incen- 
diary's torch.  I  followed  the  bent  of  my 
genius,  yet  count  I  not  my  studies  thrown 
away,  since  they  taught  me  more  philoso- 
phy than  to  tremble  at  phantoms  created 
by  my  own  imagination.  Follow  my  exam- 
ple, friend,  and  so  farewell." 


32  ABELLINO. 


CHAPTER   V. 

SOLITUDE. 

Abellino  had  already  passed  six  weeks 
in  Venice,  and  yet  (either  from  want  of  op- 
portunity, or  of  incHnation)  he  had  suffered 
his  daggers  to  remain  idle  in  their  sheaths. 
This  proceeded  partly  from  his  not  being  as 
yet  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  windings 
and  turns,  the  bye  lanes  and  private  alleys  of 
the  town;  and  partly  because  he  had  hitherto 
found  no  customers  whose  murderous  designs 
stood  in  need  of  his  helping  hand. 

This  want  of  occupation  was  irksome  to 
him  in  the  extreme;  he  panted  for  action, 
and  was  condemned  to  indolence. 

With  a  melancholy  heart  did  he  roam 
through  Venice,  and  number  every  step  with 
a  sigh.  He  frequented  the  public  places, 
the  taverns,  gardens,  and  every  scene  which 
was  dedicated  to  amusement;  but  no  where 
could  he  find  what  he  sought — tranquillity. 

One  evening  he  had  loitered  beyond  the 
other  visitants  in  a  public  garden,  situated 
on  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the  Venitian 
islands.  He  strolled  from  arbor  to  arbor, 
threw  himself  down  on  the  sea-shore,  and 


ABELLINO.  33 

•watched   the   play   of  the  waves,  as   they 
sparkled  in  the  moon-shine. 

"Four  years  ago,"  said  he  with  a  sigh, 
"just  such  an  heavenly  evening  it  was,  that 
I  stole  frora  Valeria's  lips  the  first  kiss,  and 
heard  from  Valeria's  lips  for  the  first  time 
the  avowal  that  she  loved  me." 

He  was  silent,  and  abandoned  himself  to 
the  melancholy  recollections  that  thronged 
before  his  mind's  eye. 

Every  thing  around  him  was  so  calm — so 
silent!  not  a  single  zephyr  sighed  among  the 
blades  of  grass;  but  a  storm  raged  in  the  breast 
of  Abellino. 

"Four  years  ago  could  I  have  believed 
that  a  time  would  come  when  I  should  play 
the  part  of  a  bravo  in  Venice!  0!  where  are 
they  flown,  the  golden  hopes  and  plans  of 
glory,  which  smiled  upon  me  in  the  happy 
days  of  my  youth?  I  am  a  bravo — to  be  a 
beggar  were  to  be  something  better. 

"When  my  good  old  father  in  the  enthu- 
siasm of  paternal  vanity,  so  oft  threw  his 
arm  around  my  neck,  and  cried,  'My  boy, 
thou  wilt  render  the  name  of  Rosalvo  glo- 
rious:'— God,  as  I  listened,  how  was  my 
blood  on  fire! — What  thought  I  not,  what 
felt  I  not,  what  that  was  good  and  great  did 
I  not  promise  myself  to  do! — The  father  is 
dead,  and  the  son  is — a  Venetian  bravo: — 
When  my  preceptors  praised  and  admired 


34 


ABELLINO. 


rae,  and,  carried  away  by  the  warmth  of 
their  feelings,  clapped  ray  shoulder,  and 
exclaimed,  'Count,  thou  wilt  immortalize 
the  ancient  race  of  Rosalvo!' — Ha!  in  those 
blessed  moments  of  a  sweet  delirium,  how 
bright  and  beauteous  stood  futurity  before 
me, — when,  happy  in  the  performance  of 
some  good  deed,  I  returned  home,  and  saw 
Valeria  hasten  to  receive  me  with  open  arms, 
and  when,  while  she  clasped  me  to  her  bo- 
som, I  heard  her  whisper,  'Oh!  who  could 

forbear  to  love  the  great  Rosalvo?' 

God!  oh,  God!  Away,  away,  glorious  vi- 
sions of  the  past!  To  look  on  you  drives 
me  mad!" 

He  was  again  silent;  he  bit  his  lip  in  fury, 
raised  one  emaciated  hand  to  heaven,  and 
struck  his  forehead  violently  with  the  other. 

"An  assassin — the  slave  of  cowards  and 
rascals — the  ally  of  the  greatest  villains 
whom  the  Venetian  sun  ever  shone  upon. 
Such  is  now  the  great  Rosalvo! — Fie! — oh! 
fie  on't! — And  yet  to  this  wretched  lot  hath 
fatality  condemned  me." 

Suddenly  he  sprang  from  the  ground  after 
a  long  silence;  his  eyes  sparkled;  his  counte- 
nance changed;  he  drew  his  breath  easier. 

"Yes!  by  Heaven,  yes,  great  as  Count 
Rosalvo  that  can  I  be  no  longer;  but  from 
being  great  as  a  Venetian  bravo,  what  pre- 
vents me.'' — Souls  in  bliss!"  he  exclaimed, 


ABELLINO.  35 

and  sank  on  his  knee,  while  he  raised  his 
folded  hands  to  heaven,  as  if  about  to  pro- 
nounce the  most  awful  oath,  "Spirit  of  my 
father!  Spirit  of  Valeria!  I  will  not  become 
unworthy  of  you!  Hear  me,  if  your  ghosts 
are  permitted  to  wander  near  me,  hear  me 
swear  that  the  bravo  shall  not  disgrace  his 
origin,  nor  render  vain  the  hopes  which 
soothed  you  in  the  bitterness  of  death!  No! 
sure  as  I  live,  I  will  be  the  only  dealer  in 
this  miserable  trade,  and  posterity  shall  be 
compelled  to  honor  that  name,  which  my 
actions  shall  render  illustrious." 

He  bowed  his  forehead  till  it  touched  the 
earth,  and  his  tears  flowed  plenteously. — 
Vast  conceptions  swelled  his  soul:  he  dwelt 
on  wondrous  views,  till  their  extent  bewil- 
dered his  brain.  Yet  another  hour  elapsed, 
and  he  sprang  to  the  earth  to  realize  them! 

"I  will  enter  into  no  compact  against  hu- 
man nature  with  five  miserable  cut-throats. 
Alone  will  I  make  the  republic  tremble; 
and  before  eight  days  are  flown,  these  mur- 
derous knaves  shall  swing  on  a  gibbet.  Ve- 
nice shall  no  longer  harbour  five  banditti; 
one,  and  one  only,  shall  inhabit  here,  and 
that  one  shall  beard  the  Doge  himself;  shall 
watch  over  right  and  over  wrong,  and,  ac- 
cording as  he  judges,  shall  reward  or  punish. 
Before  eight  days  are  flown,  the  state  shall 
be  purified  from  the  presence  of  these  out- 


36  ABELLINO. 

casts  of  humanity,  and  then  shall  I  stand 
alone!  Then  must  every  villain  in  Venice, 
who  hitherto  has  kept  the  daggers  of  ray 
companions  in  employment,  have  recourse 
to  me;  then  shall  I  know  the  names  and 
the  persons  of  all  those  cowardly  murder- 
ers, of  all  those  illustrious  profligates,  with 
whom  Matteo  and  his  companions  carry  on 
the  price  of  blood.  And  then,  Abellino, 
Abellino !  that  is  the  name!  Hear,  Venice, 
hear  it  and  tremble!" 

Intoxicated  with  the  wildness  of  his  hopes, 
he  rushed  out  of  the  garden;  he  summoned 
a  gondolier,  threw  himself  into  the  boat, 
and  hastened  to  the  dwelling  of  Cynthia, 
where  the  inhabitants  already  were  folded 
in  the  arms  of  sleep. 


ABELLINO.  37 


CHAPTER  VI. 

ROSABELLA,    THE   DOGe's    LOVELY   NIECE. 

"Hark,  comrade,"  said  Matteo  the  next 
morning  to  Abellino,  "to-day  thou  shalt 
make  the  first  step  in  our  profession." 

"To-day,"  hoarsely  murmured  Abellino, 
"and  on  whom  am  I  to  show  my  skill?" 

"Nay,  to  say  truth,  'tis  but  a  woman;  but 
one  must  not  give  too  difficult  a  task  to  a 
young  beginner.  I  will  myself  accompany 
you;  and  see  how  you  conduct  yourself  in 
this  first  trial. ^' 

"Hum!"  said  Abellino,  and  measured 
Matteo  with  his  eyes  from  head  to  foot. 

"To-day,  about  four  o'clock,  thou  shalt 
follow  me  to  Dolabella's  gardens  which  are 
situated  on  the  south  side  of  Venice;  we 
must  both  be  disguised,  you  understand.  In 
these  gardens  are  excellent  baths — and  after 
using  these  baths,  the  Doge's  niece,  the 
lovely  Rosabella  of  Corfu,  frequently  walks 
without  attendants.  And  then — you  con- 
ceive me?" 

"And  you  will  accompany  me?" 
4 


38  ABELLINO. 

"I  will  be  a  spectator  of  your  first  adven- 
ture; 'tis  thus  I  deal  by  every  one." 

"And  how  many  inches  deep  must  I  plunge 
my  dagger?" 

"To  the  hilt  boy,  to  the  very  hilt!  Her 
death  is  required,  and  the  payment  will  be 
princely;  Rosabella  in  the  grave,  we  are 
rich  for  life." 

Every  other  point  was  soon  adjusted, — 
Noon  was  now  past,  the  clock  in  the  neigh- 
boring church  of  the  Benedictines  struck 
four,  and  Matteo  and  Abellino  were  already 
forth. 

They  arrived  at  the  gardens  of  Dolabella, 
which  that  day  was  unusually  crowded.  Ev- 
ery shady  avenue  was  thronged  with  people 
of  both  sexes;  every  arbor  was  occupied  by 
the  persons  most  distinguished  in  Venice; 
in  every  corner  sighed  love-sick  couples,  as 
they  w^aited  for  the  wished  approach  of  twi- 
light; and  on  every  side  did  strains  of  vocal 
and  instrumental  music  pour  their  harmony 
on  the  enchanted  ear. 

Abellino  mino-led  with  the  crowd.  A 
most  respectable  looking  peruke  concealed 
the  repulsive  ugliness  of  his  features;  he  im- 
itated the  walk  and  manners  of  a  gouty  old 
man,  and  supported  himself  on  a  crutch,  as 
he  walked  slowly  through  the  assembly. — 
His  habit  richly  embroidered,  procured  for 
him  universally  a  good  reception,  and  no  one 


ABELLINO.  yy 

scrupled  to  enter  into  conversation  with  him 
respecting  the  weather,  the  commerce  of  the 
repubUc,  or  the  designs  of  its  enemies;  and 
on  no  one  of  these  subjects  was  Abellino 
found  incapable  of  sustaining  the  discourse. 

By  these  means,  he  soon  contrived  to  gain 
intelligence  that  Rosabella  was  certainly  in 
the  gardens,  how  she  was  habited,  and  in 
what  quarter  he  was  most  likely  to  find  her. 

Thither  he  immediately  bent  his  course; 
and  hard  at  his  heels  followed  Malteo. 

Alone,  and  in  the  most  retired  arbor,  sat 
Rosabella  of  Corfu,  the  fairest  maid  in  Ven- 
ice. 

Abellino  drew  near  the  arbor:  he  tottered 
as  he  passed  its  entrance,  like  one  oppressed 
with  sudden  faintness,  and  attracted  Rosa- 
bella's attention. 

"Alas!  alas!"  cried  he,  ""  is  there  no  one 
at  hand  who  will  take  compassion  on  the 
infirmity  of  a  poor  old  man?" 

The  Doge's  fair  niece  quitted  the  arbor 
hastily,  and  flew  to  give  assistance  to  the 
sufferer. 

"What  ails  you,  my  good  father?"  she 
inquired  in  a  melodious  voice,  and  with  a 
look  of  benevolent  anxiety. 

Abellino  pointed  towards  the  arbor;  Ro- 
sabella led  him  in  and  placed  him  on  a  seat 
of  turf. 

"God    reward    you,    lady!"   stammered 


40  ABELLINO. 

Abellino  faintly;  he  raised  his  eyes — they 
met  Rosabella's,  and  a  blush  crimsoned  his 
pale  cheeks. 

Rosabella  stood  in  silence  before  the  dis- 
guised assassin,  and  trembled  with  tender 
concern  for  the  old  man's  illness;  and  how 
that  expression  of  interest  ever  makes  a 
lovely  woman  look  so  much  more  lovely! — 
She  bent  her  delicate  form  over  the  man 
w^ho  was  bribed  to  murder  her,  and  after  a 
while  asked  him  in  the  gentlest  tone,  "Are 
you  not  better?" 

"Better!"  stammered  the  deceiver  with  a 
feeble  voice; — "better? — oh!  yes,  yes,  yes — 
you — you  are  the  Doge's  niece,  the  noble 
Rosabella  of  Corfu?" 

"The  same,  my  good  old  man." 

"Oh,  lady!  I  have  something  to  tell  you — 
be  on  your  guard,  start  not,  what  I  would 
say  is  of  the  utmost  consequence,  and  de- 
mands the  greatest  prudence.  Ah,  God,  that 
there  should  live  men  so  cruel! — Lady,  your 
life  is  in  danger." 

The  maiden  started  back;  the  color  fled 
from  her  cheeks. 

"Do  you  wish  to  behold  your  assassin? — 
You  shall  not  die,  but  if  you  value  your  life, 
be  silent." 

Rosabella  knew  not  w^hat  to  think;  the 
presence  of  the  old  man  terrified  her. 

"Fear  nothing,  lady,    fear  nothing;  you 


ABELLINO.  41 

have  nothing  to  fear  while  I  am  with  you. 
Before  you  quit  this  arbor,  you  shall  see  the 
assassin  expire  at  your  feet." 

Rosabella  made  a  movement  as  if  she 
would  have  fled;  but  suddenly  the  person 
who  sat  beside  her  was  no  longer  an  infirm 
old  man.  He,  who  a  minute  before  had 
scarcely  strength  to  mutter  out  a  few  senten- 
ces, and  reclined  against  the  arbor  trembling 
like  an  aspen,  sprang  up  with  the  force  of  a 
giant,  and  drew  her  back  with  one  arm. 

"For  the  love  of  heaven,"  she  cried,  "re- 
lease me!  let  me  fly!" 

"Lady,  fear  nothing;  /  protect  you." — 
Thus  said,  AbeUino  placed  a  whistle  at  his 
lips,  and  blew  it  shrilly. 

Instantly  sprang  Matteo  from  his  conceal- 
ment in  a  neighboring  clump  of  trees,  and 
rushed  into  the  arbor.  Abellino  threw 
Rosabella  on  the  bank  of  turf,  advanced  a 
few  steps  to  meet  Matteo,  and  plunged  his 
dagger  in  his  heart. 

Without  uttering  a  single  cry,  sank  the 
banditti  captain  at  the  feet  of  Abellino;  the 
death-rattle  was  heard  in  his  throat,  and  after 
a  few  horrid  convulsions  all  was  over. 

Now  did  JNIatteo's  murderer  look  again 
towards  the  arbor,  and  beheld  Rosabella  half 
senseless,  as  she  lay  on  the  bank  of  turf. 

"Your  life  is  safe,  beautiful  Rosabella," 
said  he;  "there  lies  the  villain  bleeding,  who 
4* 


42  ABELLINO. 

conducted  me  hither  to  murder  you.  Reco- 
ver yourself,  return  to  your  uncle  the  Doge, 
and  tell  him  that  you  owe  your  life  to  Abel- 
lino." 

Rosabella  could  not  speak.  Trembling 
she  stretched  her  arms  towards  him,  grasped 
his  hand,  and  pressed  it  to  her  lips  in  silent 
gratitude. 

Abellino  gazed  with  delight  and  wonder 
on  the  lovely  sufferer;  and  in  such  a  situation 
who  could  have  beheld  her  without  emo- 
tion ? — Rosabella  had  scarcely  numbered 
seventeen  summers,  her  light  and  delicate 
limbs,  enveloped  in  a  thin  white  garment 
which  fell  around  her  in  a  thousand  folds; 
her  blue  and  melting  eyes,  whence  beamed 
the  expression  of  purest  innocence ;  her 
forehead,  white  as  ivory,  overshadowed  by 
the  ringlets  of  her  bright,  dark  hair;  cheeks, 
whence  terror  had  now  stolen  the  roses; 
lips,  which  a  seducer  had  never  poisoned 
with  his  kisses:  such  was  Rosabella;  a  crea- 
ture in  whose  formation  partial  nature  seem- 
ed to  have  omitted  nothing  which  might 
constitute  the  perfection  of  female  loveliness. 
Such  she  was,  and  being  such,  the  wretched 
Abellino  may  be  forgiven,  if  for  some  few 
minutes  he  stood  like  one  enchanted,  and 
bartered  for  those  few  minutes  the  tranquil- 
lity of  his  heart  forever. 


ABELLINO.  43 

"By  him  who  made  me,"  cried  he  at 
length,  "oh!  thou  art  fair,  Rosabella;  Valeria 
was  not  fairer!" 

He  bowed  himself  down  to  her,  and  im- 
printed a  burning  kiss  on  the  pale  cheeks 
of  the  beauty. 

"Leave  me,  thou  dreadful  man!"  she 
stammered  in  terror;  "oh!  leave  me!" 

"Ah!  Rosabella,  why  art  thou  so  beau- 
teous, and  why  am  I — knowest  thou  who 
kissed  thy  cheek,  Rosabella?  Go!  tell  thy 
uncle,  the  proud  Doge  Hwas  the  bravo  Abel- 
lino  y 

He  said,  and  rushed  out  of  the  arbor. 


44  ABELLINO. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


It  was  not  without  good  reason,  that  Ab- 
ellino  took  his  departure  in  such  haste. 
He  had  quitted  the  spot  but  a  few  minutes, 
when  a  large  party  accidentally  strolled  that 
way,  and  discovered  with  astonishment  the 
corse  of  Matteo,  and  Rosabella  pale  and 
trembling  in  the  arbor. 

A  crowd  immediately  collected  itself 
around  them.  It  increased  with  every  mo- 
ment, and  Rosabella  was  necessitated  to 
repeat  what  had  happened  to  her  for  the 
satisfaction  of  every  new  comer. 

In  the  mean  while,  some  of  the  Doge's 
courtiers,  who  happened  to  be  among  the 
crowd,  hastened  to  call  her  attendants  toge- 
ther; her  gondola  was  already  waiting  for 
her,  and  the  terrified  girl  soon  reached  her 
uncle's  palace  in  safety. 

In  vain  was  an  embargo  laid  upon  every 
other  gondola;  in  vain  did  they  examine 
every  person,  who  was  in  the  gardens  of 
Dolabella  at  the  time  when  the  murdered 
assassin  was  first  discovered.  No  traces 
could  be  found  of  Abellino. 


ABELLINO.  45 

The  report  of  this  strange  adventure 
spread  like  wild-fire  through  Venice.  Ab- 
ellino,  (for  Rosabella  had  preserved  but  too 
well  in  her  memory  that  dreadful  name,  and 
by  the  relation  of  her  danger  had  given  it 
universal  publicity)  Abellino  was  the  object 
of  general  wonder  and  curiosity.  Every 
one  pitied  the  poor  Rosabella  for  what  she 
had  suffered,  execrated  the  villain  who  had 
bribed  Matteo  to  murder  her,  and  endea- 
vored to  connect  the  different  circumstances 
together  by  the  help  of  one  hypothesis  or 
other,  among  which  it  would  have  been  dif- 
ficult to  decide  which  was  the  most  impro- 
bable. 

Every  one  who  heard  the  adventure  told 
it  again,  and  every  one  who  told  it  again, 
added  something  of  his  ow^n  ;  till  at  length 
it  was  made  into  a  complete  romantic  novel, 
which  might  have  been  entided  with  great 
propriety,  "  The  Power  of  Beauty  ;"  for  the 
Venitian  gentlemen  and  ladies  had  setded 
the  point  among  themselves  completely  to 
their  own  satisfaction^  that  Abellino  would 
undoubtedly  have  assassinated  Rosabella, 
had  he  not  been  prevented  by  her  uncom- 
mon beauty.  But  though  Abellino's  inter- 
ference had  preserved  her  life,  it  w^as  doubt- 
ed much  whether  this  adventure  w^ould  be 
at  all  relished  by  her  destined  bridegroom, 
the  Prince  of  Monaldeschi,  a  Neapolitan  of 


46  ABELLINO. 

the  first  rank,  possessed  of  immense  wealth 
and  extensive  influence.  The  Doge  had  for 
some  time  been  secretly  engaged  in  nego- 
ciating  a  match  between  his  niece  and  this 
powerful  nobleman,  who  was  soon  expected 
to  make  his  appearance  at  Venice.  The 
motive  of  his  journey,  in  spite  of  all  the 
Doge's  precautions,  had  been  divulged,  and 
it  was  no  longer  a  secret  to  any  but  Rosa- 
bella, who  had  never  seen  the  Prince,  and 
could  not  imagine  why  his  expected  visit 
should  excite  such  general  curiosity. 

Thus  far  the  story  had  been  told  much 
to  Rosabella's  credit ;  but  at  length  the 
women  began  to  envy  her  for  her  share  in 
the  adventure.  The  kiss  which  she  had 
received  from  the  Bravo  afforded  them  an 
excellent  opportunity  for  throwing  out  a 
few  malicious  insinuations,  "She  received 
a  great  service,"  said  one,  "  and  there's  no 
saying  how  far  the  fair  Rosabella,  in  the 
w^armth  of  gratitude,  may  have  been  carried 
in  rewarding  her  preserver."  "  Very  true," 
observed  another,  "  and  for  my  part  I  think 
it  not  very  likely,  that  the  fellow,  being 
alone  with  a  pretty  girl,  whose  life  he  had 
just  saved,  should  have  gone  away  contented 
with  a  single  kiss !"  "  Come,  come,"  inter- 
rupted a  third,  "  do  not  let  us  judge  uncha- 
ritably ;  the  fact  may  be  exactly  as  the  lady 
relates  ;  though  I  must  say,  that  gentlemen 


ABELLINO.  47 

of  Abellino's  profession  are  not  usually  so 
pretty  behaved,  and  that  this  is  the  first 
time  I  ever  heard  of  a  bravo  in  the  Plato- 
nics." 

In  short,  Rosabella  and  the  horrible  Ab- 
ellino  furnished  the  indolent  and  gossiping 
Venitians  with  conversation  so  long,  that  at 
length  the  Doge's  niece  was  universally 
known  by  the  honorable  aj^pellation  of  the 
"Bravo's  Bride." 

But  no  one  gave  himself  more  trouble 
about  this  affair  than  the  Doge,  the  good 
but  proud  Ancreas.  He  immediately  issued 
orders,  that  every  person  of  suspicious  ap- 
pearance should  be  watched  more  closely 
than  ever:  the  night  patroles  were  doubled  ; 
and  spies  were  employed  daily  in  procuring 
intelligence  of  Abellino  ;  and  yet  all  was  in 
vain — Abellino's  retreat  was  inscrutable. 


48  ABELLINO. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  CONSPIRACY. 

"  Confusion !"  exclaimed  Parozzi,  a  Veni- 
tian  nobleman  of  the  first  rank,  as  he  paced 
his  chamber  with  a  disordered  air,  on  the 
morning  after  Matteo's  murder;  "now  all 
curses  light  upon  the  villain's  awkwardness  ' 
Yet  it  seems  inconceivable  to  me  how  all 
this  should  have  fallen  out  so  untowardly ! 
Has  any  one  discovered  my  designs  ? — I 
know  w^ell,  that  Verrino  loves  Rosabella ; 
was  it  he,  wdio  opposed  this  confounded 
Abellino  to  Matteo,  and  charged  him  to 
mar  my  plans  against  her?  This  seems 
likely.  And  now,  when  the  Doge  inquires 
who  it  was  that  employed  assassins  to  mur- 
der his  niece,  what  other  will  be  suspected 
than  Parozzi,  the  discontented  lover,  to 
wdiom  Rosabella  refused  her  hand,  and  whom 
Andreas  hates  past  hope  of  reconciliation  ? — 
And  now,  having  once  found  the  scent — 
Parozzi !  Parozzi !  should  the  crafty  Andreas 
get  an  insight  into  your  plans — should  he 
learn  that  you  have  placed  yourself  at  the 
head  of  a  troop  of  hare-brained  youths — 
hare-brained  may  I  w^ell  call  children,  who, 


ABELLINO.  49 

in  order  to  avoid  the  rod,  set  fire  to  their 
paternal  mansion — Parozzi,  should  all  this 
be  revealed  to  Andreas — " 

Here  his  reflections  were  interrupted. 
Memmo,  Falieri,  and  Contarino  entered  the 
room,  three  young  Venitians  of  the  highest 
rank,  Parozzi's  inseparable  companions, 
men  depraved  both  in  mind  and  body, 
spendthrifts,  voluptuaries,  well  know  to 
every  usurer  in  Venice,  and  owing  more 
than  their  paternal  inheritance  would  ever 
admit  of  their  paying. 

"  Why,  how  is  this,  Parozzi?"  cried  Mem- 
mo, as  he  entered,  (a  wretch  whose  very 
features  exhibited  marks  of  that  libertinism 
to  which  his  life  had  been  dedicated)  "I 
can  scarce  recover  myself  from  my  astonish- 
ment! For  Heaven's  sake,  is  this  report 
true?  Did  you  really  hire  Matteo  to  mur- 
der the  Doge's  niece?" 

"  I  ?"  exclaimed  Parozzi,  and  hastily  turn- 
ed away  to  hide  the  deadly  paleness  which 
overspread  his  countenance  ;  "  Why  should 
you  suppose  that  any  such  design — sureJy, 
Memmo,  you  are  distracted." 

Memmo. — By  my  soul,  I  speak  but  the 
plain  matter  of  fact.  Nay,  only  ask  Falieri 
— he  can  tell  you  more. 

Falieri. — Faith,  'tis  certain,  Parozzi,  that 
Lomellino  has  declared  to  the   Doge,  as  a 
ruth  beyond  doubting,  that  you,  and   none 
5 


50  ABELLINO. 

but  you^  were  the  person,  who  instigated 
Matteo  to  attempt  Rosabella's  life. 

Parozzi. — And  I  tell  you  again,  that  Lo- 
mellino  knows  not  what  he  says. 

Contarino. — Well,  well !  be  on  your  guard. 
Andreas  is  a  terrible  fellow  to  deal  with. 

Falieri. — He  terrible  ?  I  tell  you,  he  is 
the  most  contemptible  blockhead  that  the 
universe  can  furnish.  Courage,  perhaps,  he 
possesses,  but  of  brains  not  an  atom. 

Contarino. — And  I  tell  you  that  Andreas 
is  as  brave  as  a  lion,  and  as  crafty  as  a  fox. 

Falieri. — Psha !  psha !  every  thing  would 
go  to  wreck  and  ruin,  w^ere  it  not  for  the 
wiser  heads  of  the  triumvirate  of  counsel- 
lors, whom  Heaven  confound  !  Deprive  him 
of  Paolo  Manfrone,  Conari,  and  Lomellino, 
and  the  Doge  would  stand  there  looking  as 
foolish  as  a  school  boy,  who  was  going  to 
be  examined,  and  had  forgotten  his  lesson. 

Parozzi. — Falieri  is  in  the  right. 

Memino. — Quite  !  quite ! 

Falieri. — And  then  Andreas  is  as  proud 
as  a  beggar  grown  rich  and  dressed  in  his 
first  suit  of  embroidery.  By  St.  Anthony ! 
he  is  become  quite  insupportable.  Do  you 
not  observe  how  he  increases  the  number  of 
his  attendants  daily  ? 

Memmo. — Nay,  that  is  an  undoubted  fact. 

Contarino. — And  then  to  what  an  un- 
bounded extent  has  he  carried  his  influence  ! 


ABELLINO.  51 

The  Sis^nioria,  the  Quaranti,  the  Procura- 
tors of  St.  Mark,  the  Avccatori,  all  think 
and  act  exactly  as  suits  the  Doge's  pleasure 
and  convenience.  Every  soul  of  them  de- 
pends as  much  on  that  one  man's  humor  and 
caprices,  as  puppets  do,  who  nod  or  shake 
their  wooden  heads,  just  as  the  fellow  be- 
hind the  curtain  thinks  proper  to  move  the 
wires. 

Parozzi. — And  yet  the  populace  idolizes 
this  Andreas  ! 

Memmo. — Aye,  that  is  the  worst  part  of 
the  story. 

Falieri. — But  never  credit  me  a^^ain,  if  he 
does  not  experience  a  reverse  of  fortune 
speedily. 

Contarhio. — That  might  happen,  w^ould 
we  but  set  our  shoulders  to  the  wheel  stout- 
ly. But  what  do  we  do  ?  We  pass  our  time 
in  taverns  and  brothels,  drink  and  game, 
and  throw  ourselves  headlong  into  such  an 
ocean  of  debts,  that  the  best  swimmer  must 
sink  at  last.  Let  us  resolve  to  make  the 
attempt;  let  us  seek  recruits  on  all  sides; 
let  us  labor  with  all  our  might  and  main : 
things  must  change  ;  or  if  they  do  not,  take 
my  word  for  it,  my  friends,  this  world  is  no 
longer  a  world  for  us. 

Memmo. — Nay,  it  is  a  melancholy  truth, 
that  during  the  last  half  year,  my  creditors 
have  been  ready  to  beat  my  door  down  with 


52  ABELLINO. 

knocking ;  I  am  awakened  out  of  my  sleep 
in  the  morning,  and  lulled  to  rest  again  at 
night,  with  no  other  music  than  their  eter- 
nal clamors. 

Parozzi. — Ha!  ha!  ha!  Asfor  me,  I  need 
not  tell  you  how  I  am  situated. 

Falieri. — Had  we  been  less  extravagant, 
we  might  at  this  moment  have  been  sitting 
quietly  in  our  palaces,  and — but  as  things 
stand  now — 

Parozzi. — Well — "  as  things  stand  now" 
— I  verily  believe  that  Falieri  is  going  to  mo- 
ralize. 

Coiitarino. — That  is  the  very  way  with 
old  sinners,  when  they  have  lost  the  power 
to  sin  any  lonp^er:  then  they  are  ready  to 
weep  over  their  past  life,  and  talk  loudly 
about  repentance  and  reformation.  Now, 
for  my  own  part,  I  am  perfectly  well  satis- 
fied with  my  w^anderings  from  the  common 
beaten  paths  of  morality  and  prudence. 
They  serve  to  convince  me,  that  I  am  not 
one  of  your  every-day  men,  who  sit  cramp- 
ed up  in  the  chimney-corner,  lifeless  and 
phlegmatic,  and  shudder  when  they  hear  of 
any  extraordinary  occurrence.  Nature  evi- 
dently intended  me  to  be  a  libertine,  and  I 
am  determined  to  fulfil  my  destination. 
Why,  if  spirits  like  ours  were  not  produced 
every  now  and  then,  the  world  would  abso- 
lutely go  fast  asleep ;  but  w^e  rouse  it  by 


ABELLINO.  53 

deranging  the  old  order  of  things,  force 
mankind  to  quicken  their  snail's  pace,  tar- 
nish a  million  of  idlers  with  riddles  which 
they  puzzle  their  brains  about,  without  be- 
ing able  to  comprehend,  infuse  some  few 
hundreds  of  new  ideas  into  the  heads  of  the 
great  multitude,  and  in  short,  are  as  useful 
to  the  world  as  tempests  are,  which  dissipate 
those  exhalations,  with  which  nature  other- 
wise would  poison  herself. 

Fallen. — Excellent  sophistry,  by  my  hon- 
our! Why,  Contarino,  ancient  Rome  has 
had  an  irreparable  loss  in  net  having  num- 
bered you  among  her  orators  :  it  is  a  pity 
though,  that  there  should  be  so  little  that  is 
solid  wrapt  up  in  so  many  fine  sounding 
words.  Now  learn,  that  while  you,  with 
this  rare  talent  of  eloquence,  have  been  most 
unmercifully  wearing  out  the  patience  of 
your  good  natured  hearers,  Falieri  has  been 
in  action  !  The  Cardinal  Gonzaga  is  dis- 
contented wiih  the  government ;  heaven 
knows  what  Andreas  has  done  to  make  him 
so  vehemently  his  enemy ;  but,  in  short, 
Gonzaga  now  belongs  to  our  party. 

Parozzi.  {with  astonishment  and  delig;}d.) 
Falieri,  are  you  in  your  senses?  The  Car- 
dinal Gonzaga — 

Falieri. — Is  ours,  and  ours  both  body  and 
soul.  I  confess,  I  was  obliged  to  rhodomon- 
tade  a  good  deal  to  him  about  our  patriotism, 
5* 


54  ABELLINO. 

our  glorious  designs,  our  love  for  freedom, 
and  so  forth;  in  short,  Gonzaga  is  a  hypo- 
crite, and  therefore  is  Gonzaga  the  fitter  for 
us. 

Contarino^  (clnsping  Falieri's  hand.) — 
Eravo,  my  friend  !  Venice  shall  see  a  second 
edition  of  Catiline's  conspiracy.  Now, 
then,  it  is  my  turn  to  speak,  for  I  have  not 
been  idle  since  we  parted.  In  truth,  I  have 
as  yet  caught  nothing,  but  I  have  made  my- 
self master  of  an  all-powerful  net,  with 
which  I  doubt  not  to  capture  the  best  half 
of  Venice.  You  all  know  the  Marchioness 
Olympia  ? 

Parozzi. — Does  not  each  of  us  keep  a  list 
of  the  handsomest  women  in  the  republic, 
and  can  we  have  forgotten  number  one  ? 

Falieri. — Olympia  and  Rosabella  are  the 
goddesses  of  Venice  :  our  youths  burn  in- 
cense on  no  other  altar. 

Contarino. — Olympia  is  my  own. 

Falieri. — How  ? 

Parozzi. — Olympia  ? 

Contarino. — Why,  how  now  ?  Why  stare 
ye,  as  if  1  had  prophesied  to  you  that  the 
skies  were  going  to  fall  ?  I  tell  you,  Olym- 
pia's  heart  is  mine,  and  that  I  possess  her 
entire  and  most  intimate  confidence.  Our 
connection  must  remain  a  profound  secret ; 
but  depend  upon  it,  whatever  I  wish,  she 
wishes  also  ;  and  you  know  she  can  make 


ABELLINO.  55 

half  the  nobility  in  Venice  dance  to  the 
sound  of  her  pipe,  let  her  play  what  tune 
she  pleases. 

Parozzi. — Contarino,  you  are  our  master. 

Contarino. — And  you  had  not  the  least 
suspicion  how  powerful  an  ally  I  was  labor- 
ing to  procure  for  you  ? 

Parozzi. — I  must  blush  for  myself  while 
I  listen  to  you,  since  as  yet  I  have  done  no- 
thing. Yet  this  I  must  say  in  my  excuse, 
had  Matteo,  bribed  by  my  gold,  accom- 
plished Rosabella's  murder,  the  Doge  w^ould 
have  been  robbed  of  that  chain,  with  which 
he  holds  the  chief  men  of  Venice  attached 
to  his  government.  Andreas  would  have 
no  merit,  were  Rosabella  once  removed. 
The  most  illustrious  families  would  care  no 
longer  for  his  friendship,  were  their  hopes 
of  a  connection  wnth  him  by  means  of  his 
niece  buried  in  her  grave.  Rosabella  will 
one  day  be  the  Doge's  heiress. 

Memmo. — K\\  that  I  can  do  for  you  in  this 
business  is  to  provide  you  with  pecuniary 
supplies.  My  old  miserable  uncle,  whose 
whole  property  becomes  mine  at  his  death, 
has  brim-full  coffers,  and  the  old  miser  dies 
whenever  I  say  the  word. 

Falieri. — You  have  suffered  him  to  live 
too  long  already. 

Memmo. — Why,  I  never  have  been  able 
to  make   up  my  mind  entirely  to You 


56  ABELo^INO. 

would  scarcely  believe  it,  friends — but  at 
times  I  am  so  hypochondriac,  I  could  almost 
fancy  I  feel  twinges  of  conscience. 

Contarino. — Indeed  !  Then  take  m.y  ad- 
vice, and  go  into  a  monastery. 

Memmo. — Yes,  truly,  that  would  suit  me 
to  a  hair. 

Falieri. — Our  first  care  must  be  to  find 
out  our  old  acquaintances,  Matteo's  compan- 
ions :  yet  having  hitherto  always  transacted 
business  with  them  through  their  captain, 
I  know  not  where  they  are  to  be  met  with. 

Parozzi. — As  soon  as  they  are  found,  their 
first  employment  must  be  the  removal  of  the 
Doge's  trio  of  advisers. 

Contarino. — That  were  an  excellent  idea, 
if  it  were  but  as  easily  done  as  said.  Well 
then,  my  friends,  this  principal  point  at  last 
is  decided.  Either  we  will  bury  our  debts 
under  the  ruins  of  the  existing  constitution 
of  the  republic,  or  make  Andreas  a  gift  of 
our  heads  towards  strengthening  the  walls  of 
the  building.  In  either  case,  we  shall  at 
least  obtain  quiet.  Necessity,  with  her  whip 
of  serpents,  has  driven  us  to  the  very  point 
of  her  rock,  whence  we  must  save  ourselves 
by  some  act  of  extraordinary  darin^j,  or  be 
precipitated  on  the  opposite  side  into  the 
abyss  of  shame  and  eternal  oblivion.  The 
next  point  to  be  considered,  is  how^  we  may 
best  obtain  supplies  for  our  necessary  ex- 


ARELLINO.  57 

penses,  and  induce  others  to  join  with  us  in 
our  plans.  For  this  purpose  we  must  use 
every  artifice  to  secure  in  our  interests  the 
courtezans  of  the  greatest  celebrity  in  Ve- 
nice. What  we  should  be  unable  to  effect 
by  every  powder  of  persuasion,  banditti  by 
their  daggers,  and  princes  by  their  treasu- 
ries, can  one  of  these  Phrynes  accomplish 
with  a  single  look.  Where  the  terrors  of 
the  scaffold  are  without  effect,  and  the 
priest's  exhortations  are  heard  with  cold- 
ness, a  wanton  kiss  and  a  tender  promise 
often  perform  wonders.  The  most  vigilant 
fidelity  drops  to  sleep  on  the  voluptuous 
bosoms  of  these  witches ;  the  w^armth  of 
their  kisses  can  thaw  the  lips  of  secrecy  it- 
self; and  the  bell  which  sounded  the  hour 
of  assignation,  has  often  ransf  the  knell  of 
the  most  sacred  principles  and  most  stead- 
fast resolutions.  But  should  you  either  fail 
to  gain  the  mastery  over  the  minds  of  these 
women,  or  fear  to  be  yourselves  entangled 
in  the  nets  you  wish  to  spread  for  others — 
in  these  cases  you  must  have  recourse  to  the 
holy  father  confessors.  Flatter  the  pride  of 
these  insolent  friars  ;  paint  for  them  upon 
the  blank  leaf  of  futurity,  bishop's  mitres, 
patriarchal  missions,  the  hats  of  cardinals, 
and  the  keys  of  St.  Peter ;  my  life  upon  it, 
they  will  spring  at  the  bait,  and  you  wnll 
have   them    completely   at   your    disposal. 


58  ABELLINO. 

These  hypocrites,  who  govern  the  con- 
sciences of  the  bigoted  Venetians,  hold  man 
and  woman,  the  noble  and  the  mendicant, 
the  Doge  and  the  gondolier,  bound  fast  in 
the  chains  of  superstition,  by  which  they 
can  lead  them  wheresoever  it  best  suits  their 
pleasure.  It  will  save  us  tons  of  gold  in 
gaining  over  proselytes,  and  keeping  their 
consciences  quiet  when  gained,  if  we  can 
but  obtain  the  assistance  of  the  confessors, 
whose  blessings  and  curses  pass  with  the 
multitude  for  current  coin.  Now  then  to 
work,  comrades,  and  so  farewell. 


ABELLINO.  59 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Scarcely  had  Abellino  achieved  the 
bloody  deed  which  employed  every  tongue 
in  Venice,  than  he  changed  his  dress  and 
whole  appearance  with  so  much  expedition 
and  success  as  to  prevent  the  slightest  sus- 
picion of  his  being  Matteo's  murderer.  He 
quitted  the  gardens  unquestioned,  nor  left 
the  least  trace  which  could  lead  to  a  discov- 
ery. 

He  arrived  at  Cynthia's  dwelling.  It 
was  evening.  Cynthia  opened  the  door, 
and  Abellino  entered  the  common  apart- 
ment. 

"  Where  are  the  rest  ?"  said  he  in  a  sav- 
asje  tone  of  voice,  whose  sound  made  Cyn- 
thia tremble. 

"  They  have  been  asleep,"  she  answered, 
"  since  mid-day.  Probably  they  mean  to 
go  out  on  some  pursuit  to-night." 

Abellino  threw  himself  into  a  chair,  and 
seemed  to  be  lost  in  thought. 

"  But  why  are  you  ahvays  so  gloomy, 
Abellino,"    said    Cynthia,    drawing    near 


60  ABELLINO. 

him  ;  "  it  is  that  which  makes  you  so  ue;ly. 
Pray  thee,  away  with  those  frowns  ;  they 
make  your  countenance  look  worse  than  na- 
ture made  it." 

AbelUno  made  no  answer. 

"  Really,  you  are  enough  to  frighten  a 
body !  Come  now,  let  us  be  friends,  Abel- 
lino  ;  I  begin  not  to  dislike  you,  and  to  en- 
dure your  appearance  ;  and  I  don't  know 
but—" 

"Go!  wake  the  sleepers!"  roared  the 
Bravo. 

"The  sleepers?  Psha !  let  them  sleep 
on,  the  stupid  rogues !  Sure  you  are  not 
afraid  to  be  alone  with  me?  Mercy  on  me, 
one  would  think  I  looked  as  terrible  as  your- 
self.    Do  I?  Nay,  look  on  me,  Abellino!" 

Cynthia,  to  say  the  truth,  was  by  no 
means  an  ill-looking  girl;  her  eyes  were 
bright  and  expressive  ;  her  hair  fell  in  shin- 
ing ringlets  over  her  bosom;  her  lips  were 
red  and  full,  and  she  bowed  them  towards 
Abellino's — but  Abellino's  were  still  sacred 
by  the  touch  of  Rosabella's  cheek.  He  start- 
ed from  his  seat,  and  removed  (yet  gently) 
Cynthia's  hand  which  rested  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Wake  the  sleepers,  my  good  girl,"  said 
he,  "  I  must  speak  with  them  this  mo- 
ment." 

Cynthia  hesitated. 


ABELLINO.  61 

Cynthia  retired  in  silence  ;  yet,  as  she 
crossed  the  threshold,  she  stopped  for  an 
instant,  and  menaced  him  with  her  finger. 

Abellino  strode  through  the  chamber 
with  hasty  steps,  his  head  reclining  on  his 
shoulder,  his  arms  folded  over  his  breast 

"  The  first  step  is  taken,"  said  he  to  him- 
self;  "there  is  one  moral  monster  the  less 
on  earth.  I  have  committed  no  sin  by  this 
murder;  I  have  but  performed  a  sacred  du- 
ty. Aid  me,  thou  Great  and  Good,  for  ar- 
duous is  the  task  before  me.  Ah  !  should 
that  task  be  gone  through  with  success,  and 
Rosabella  be  the  reward  of  my  labors — Ro- 
sabella ?  What,  shall  the  Doge's  niece  be- 
stow her  hand  on  the  outcast  Abellino  ? — 
Oh!  madman  that  I  am  to  hope  it !  No! 
never  was  their  frenzy  equal  to  mine  !  To 
attach  myself  at  first  sight  to Yet  Ro- 
sabella is  capable  of  thus  enchanting  at  first 
sight !  Rosabella  and  Valeria  !  To  be  be- 
loved by  two  such  women  !  Yet  though 
'tis  impossible  to  attain,  the  striving'  to  at- 
tain such  an  end  is  glorious.  Illusions  so 
delif^htful  will  at  least  make  me  happy  for  a 
moment,  and  alas!  the  wretched  Abellino 
needs  illusions,  that  for  a  moment  will  make 
him  happy.  Oh  !  surely  knew  the  world 
what  I  gladly  luould  accomplish,  the  world 
would  both  pity  and  love  me." 

Cynthia  returned,  the  four  Bravos  follow- 
6 


62  ABELLINO. 

ed  her,  yawning,  grumbling,  and  still  half 
asleep.  "  Come,  come,"  said  Abellino  ; 
*'  rouse  yourselves,  lads.  Before  I  say  any 
thing,  be  convinced  that  you  are  wide 
awake,  for  what  I  am  going  to  tell  you  is  so 
strange  that  you  will  needs  believe  it 
to  be  a  dream." 

They  listened  to  him  with  an  air  of  indif- 
ference and  impatience.  "  Why,  what's 
the  matter  now  ?"  said  Tomaso,  while  he 
stretched  himself. 

"  Neither  more  nor  less,  than  that  our 
honest,  hearty,  brave  Matteo  is — murder- 
ed!" 

"  What  ?  Murdered  !"  everyone  exclaim.- 
ed,  and  gazed  with  looks  of  terror  on  the 
bearer  of  this  unwelcome  news  ;  while  Cyn- 
thia gave  a  loud  scream,  and  clasping  her 
hands  together,  sunk  almost  breathless  into 
a  chair. 

A  general  silence  prevailed  for  some 
time. 

"  Murdered  ?"  at  length  repeated  Toma- 
so, and  by  whom  ? 

Baluzzo. — Where  ? 

Petrino. — What !  this  forenoon  ? 

Abellino. — In  the  gardens  of  Dolabella, 
where  he  was  found  bleeding  at  the  feet  oi 
the  Doge's  niece.  Whether  he  fell  by  her 
hand,  or  by  that  of  one  of  her  admirers,  I 
cannot  say. 


ABELLINO.  63 

Cynthia^  (ineepins;.) — Poor,  dear  Matteo  ! 

Mellino. — About  this  time  to-morrow, 
you  will  see  his  corse  exhibited  on  a  gib- 
bet. 

Petrino. — What !  did  any  one  recognize 
him  ? 

Abellino. — Yes,  yes !  there's  no  doubt 
about  his  trade,  you   may  depend  on't. 

Cynthia. — The  gibbet! — Poor,  dear  Mat- 
teo ! 

Tomaso. — This  is  a  fine  piece  of  work  ! 

Baluzzo. — Confound  the  fellow!  who 
would  have  thought  of  any  thing  happening 
so  unlucky  ? 

Abellino. — Why,  how  now  ?  You  seem 
to  be  overcome. 

Struzzo. — I  cannot  recover  myself:  sur- 
prise and  terror  have  almost  stupified  me. 

Abellino. — Indeed  !  by  my  life,  when  I 
heard  the  news,  I  burst  into  laughter  :  "Sig- 
ner Matteo,'  said  I,  '  I  wish  your  worship 
joy  of  your  safe  arrival.' 

Tomaso. — What  ? 

Struzzo. — You  laughed  ?  Hang  me  if  I 
can  see  what  there  is  to  laugh  at. 

Abellino. — Why,  surely  you  are  not 
afraid  of  receiving  what  you  are  so  ready  to 
bestow  on  others  ?  What  is  your  object  ? — 
What  can  we  expect  as  our  reward  at  the 
end  of  our  labors,  except  the  gibbet  or  the 
rack  ?     W^hat  memorials  of  our  actions  shall 


64  ABELLINO. 

we  leave  behind  us,  except  our  skeletons 
dancing  in  the  air,  and  the  chains  which 
rattle  around  them  ?  He  who  chooses  to 
play  the  Bravo's  part  on  the  great  theatre  of 
the  world,  must  not  be  afraid  of  death, 
whether  it  comes  at  the  hand  of  the  physi- 
cian, or  of  the  executioner.  Come,  come  ! 
pluck  up  your  spirits,  comrades. 

Tomaso. — That's  easy  to  say,  but  quite 
out  of  my  power. 

Petrino, — Mercy  on  me — how  my  teeth 
chatter ! 

Baluzzo. — Pr'ythee,  Abellino,  be  compo- 
sed for  a  moment  or  two — your  gaiety  at  a 
time  like  this,  is  quite  horrible. 

Cynthia, — Oh  me  !  Oh  me  ! — Pocr  mur- 
dered Matteo. 

Abellino. — Hey  day  !  Why,  what  is  all 
this  ?  Cynthia,  my  life,  are  you  not  ashamed 
of  being  such  a  child?  Come,  let  you 
and  I  renew  that  conversation  which  my 
sending  you  to  wake  these  gentlemen  inter- 
rupted— sit  down  by  me,  sweet  heart,  and 
give  me  a  kiss. 

Cynthia. — Out  upon  you,  monster! 

Abellino. — What,  have  you  altered  your 
mind,  my  pretty  dear  ?  Well,  well — with 
all  ray  heart.  When  you  are  in  the  humor, 
/may  not  have  an  inclination. 

Baluzzo. — Death  and  the  devil,  Abelli- 
no, is  this  a  time  for  talking  nonsense  ? — 


ABELLINO.  65 

Pr'ythee,  keep  such  trash  for  a  fitter  occa- 
sion, and  let  us  consider  what  we  are  to  do 
just  now. 

Petrino, — Nay,  this  is  no  season  for  tri- 
fling. 

Struzzo. — Tell  us,  Abellino,  you  are  a 
clever  fellow  ;  what  course  is  it  best  for  us 
to  take  ? 

Ahellino^  [after  a  pause.) — Nothing  must 
be  done,  or  a  great  deal.  One  of  two 
things  must  we  choose — either  we  must  re- 
main where  we  are,  and  what  we  are,  mur- 
der honest  men  to  please  any  rascal  w^ho 
will  give  us  gold  and  fair  words,  and  make 
up  our  minds  to  be  hung,  broken  on  the 
wheel,  condemned  to  the  galleys,  burnt 
alive,  crucified  or  beheaded  at  the  long  run, 
just  as  it  may  seem  best  to  the  supreme  au- 
thority ;  or  else — 

Tomaso. — Or  else  ?  Well  ? 

Ahellino. — Or  else  we  must  divide  the 
spoils  w^hich  are  already  in  our  possession, 
quit  the  republic,  begin  a  new  and  better 
life,  and  endeavour  to  make  our  peace  w^ith 
heaven.  We  have  already  wealth  enough 
to  make  it  unnecessary  for  us  to  ask,  "  How 
shall  we  get  our  bread  ?"  You  may  either 
buy  an  estate  in  some  foreign  country,  or 
keep  an  Osteria,  or  engage  in  commerce,  or 
in  short,  do  whatever  you  like  best,  so  that 
you  do  but  abandon  the  profession  of  an  as- 
6* 


66  ABELLINO. 

sassin.  Then  we  may  look  out  a  wife 
among  the  pretty  girls  of  our  own  rank  in 
life,  become  the  happy  fathers  of  sons  and 
daughters,  may  eat  and  drink  in  peace  and 
security,  and  make  amends,  by  the  honesty 
of  our  future  lives,  for  the  offences  of  our 
past. 

Tomaso. — Ha !  ha  !  ha  ! 

Ahellwo. — What  you  do,  that  will  /  do 
too ;  I  will  either  hang,  or  be  broken  on 
the  wheel  with  you,  or  become  an  honest 
man,  just  as  you  please.  Now  then,  what 
is  your  decision  ? 

Tomaso. — Was  there  ever  such  a  stupid 
counsellor  ? 

Petrino. — Our  decision  ?  Nay,  the  point 
is  not  very  difficult  to  decide. 

Ahellino. — I  should  have  thought  it  had 
been. 

Tomaso. — Without  more  words  then,  I 
vote  for  our  remaining  as  we  are,  and  car- 
rying on  our  old  trade  ;  that  will  bring  us 
in  plenty  of  gold,  and  enable  us  to  lead  a 
jolly  life. 

Petrino. — Right,  lad!  You  speak  my 
thoughts  exactly- 

Tomaso. — We  are  Bravos,  it  is  true  ;  but 
what  then?  We  are  honest  fellows,  and 
the  devil  take  him  who  dares  say  we  are 
not.  However,  at  any  rate,  we  must  keep 
within  doors  for  a  few  days,  lest  we  should 


ABELLINO.  67 

be  discovered  ;  for  I  warrant  you  the  Doge's 
spies  are  abroad  in  search  of  us.  But  as 
soon  as  the  pursuit  is  over,  be  it  our  first 
business  to  find  out  Matteo's  murderer,  and 
throttle  him  out  of  hand,  as  a  warning  to  all 
others. 

All. — Bravo  !  bravissimo  ! 

Petrino. — And  from  this  day  forth,  I  vote 
that  Tomaso  should  be  our  Captain. 

Struzzo. — Aye,  in  Matteo's  stead. 

./^//.— Right !  right! 

Abellino. — To  which  I  say  amen  with 
all  my  heart.     Now  then  all  is  decided. 


BOOK  II. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE      BIRTH      DAY. 

In  solitude  and  anxiety,  with  barred  win- 
dows and  bolted  doors,  did  the  banditti  pass 
the  day  immediately  succeeding  JVlatteo's 
murder  ;  every  murmur  in  the  street  ap- 
peared to  them  a  cause  of  apprehension  ; 
every  footstep  which  approached  their  doors 
made  them  tremble  till  it  had  passed  them. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  ducal  palace  blazed 
with  splendor,  and  resounded  with  mirth. 
The  Doge  celebrated  the  birth-day  of  his 
fair  niece,  Rosabella,  and  the  feast  was  hon- 
ored by  the  presence  of  the  chief  persons 
of  the  city,  of  the  foreign  ambassadors, 
and  of  many  illustrious  strangers  who  were 
at  that  time  residents  in  Venice. 

On  this  occasion  no  expense  had  been 
spared  no  source  of  pleasure  had  been  ne- 
glected. The  arts  contended  with  each 
other  for  superiority  ;  the  best  poets  in 
Venice  celebrated  this  day  with  powers  ex- 
celling anything  which  they  had  before  ex- 
hibited, for  the  subject  of  their  verses  was 
Rosabella  ;  the  musicians  and  virtuosi  sur- 
passed all  their  former  triumphs,  for  their 
object  was  to  obtain   the  suffrage  of  Rosa- 


72  ABELLINO. 

bella. — The  singular  unian  of  all  kinds  of 
pleasure  intoxicated  the  imagination  of 
every  guest ;  and  the  Genius  of  delight 
extended  his  influence  over  the  whole  as- 
sennbly,  over  the  old  man  and  the  youth, 
over  the  matron  and  the  virgin 

The  venerable  Andreas  had  seldom  been 
seen  in  such  high  spirits  as  on  this  occasion. 
He  was  all  life  ;  smiles  of  satisfaction  play- 
ed round  his  lips  :  gracious  and  conscend- 
ing  to  every  one,  he  made  it  his  chief  care  to 
prevent  his  rank  from  being  felt.  Some- 
times he  trifled  with  the  ladies,  whose 
beauty  formed  the  greatest  ornament  of 
this  entertainment;  sometimes  he  mingled 
among  the  masks  whose  fantastic  appear- 
ance and  gaiety  of  conversation  enlivened 
the  ball-room  by  their  variety;  at  other 
times  he  played  chess  with  the  generals 
and  admirals  of  the  republic;  and  frequent- 
ly he  forsook  every  thing  to  gaze  with  de- 
light on  Rosabella's  dancing,  or  listen  in 
silent  rapture  to  Rosabella's  music. 

Lomellino,  Conari,  and  Paolo  Manfrone, 
the  Doge's  three  confidential  friends  and 
counsellors,  in  defiance  of  their  gray  hairs, 
vningied  in  the  throng  of  youthful  beauties, 
flirted  first  with  one,  and  then  with  another, 
and  the  arrows  of  raillery  were  darted  and 
received  on  both  sides  with  spirit  and  good 
humor. 


ABELLINO.  73 

<<No\v,  Lomellino,"  said  Andreas  to  his 
friend,  who  entered  the  saloon,  in  which 
the  Doge  was  at  that  time  accidentally  alone 
with  his  niece;  ''  you  seem  in  gayer  spirits 
this  evening  than  when  yon  were  lying  be- 
fore Scardonia,  and  had  so  hard  a  game  to 
play  against  the  Turks." 

Lomeliino. — I  shall  not  take  upon  me  to 
deny  that,  Signor.  I  shall  think  with  a 
mixture  of  terror  and  satisfaction,  on  the 
night  when  we  took  Scardonia,  and  carried 
the  half  moon  before  the  city  walls.  By 
my  soul  our  Venitians  fought  like  lions. 

t^ndreas.—YWX  this  goblet  to  their  memo- 
ry, my  old  soldier;  you  have  earned  your 
rest  bravely. 

Lomeliino. — Aye,  Signor,  and  oh!  it  is 
so  sweet  to  rest  on  laurels!  But  in  truth, 
'tis  to  you  that  I  am  indebted  for  mine;  it 
is  you  who  have  immortalized  me.  No 
soul  on  earth  would  have  known  that  Lo- 
meliino existed,  had  he  not  fought  in  Dal- 
matia  and  Sicily  under  the  banners  of  the 
great  Andreas,  and  assisted  him  in  raising 
eternal  trophies  in  honor  of  the  republic. 

Jindreas. — My  good  Lomeliino,  the  Cy- 
prus wine  has  heated  your  imagination. 

Lomeliino. — Nay,  I  know  well  I  ought 

not  to  call  you   great,  and  praise  you  thus 

openly  to  your  face;  but  faith,  Signor,  I  am 

grown  too  old  for  it  to  be  worth  my  while 

7 


/4  ABELLINO. 

to  flatter.  That  is  a  business  which  I  leave 
to  our  young;  courtiers,  who  have  never 
yet  come  within  the  smell  of  powder,  and 
have  never  fought  for  Venice  and  Andreas. 

Jindreas. — You  are  an  old  enthusiast! — 
Think  you  the  emperor  is  of  the  same 
opinion? 

Lomellino. — Unless  Charles  the  Fifth  is 
deceived  by  those  about  him,  or  is  too  proud 
to  allow  the  greatness  of  an  enemy,  he 
must  say  perforce,  ^' There  is  but  one  man 
on  earlh  whom  1  fear,  and  who  is  worthy 
to  contend  with  me;  and  that  man  is  An- 
dreas." 

Andreas. — I  suspect  he  will  be  sorely 
displeased  when  he  receives  my  answer  to 
the  message  by  which  he  notified  to  me  the 
imprisonment  of  the  French  king. 

Lomellino. — Displeased  he  will  be.  Sig- 
ner, no  doubt  of  it:  but  what  then?  Venice 
need  not  fear  his  displeasure  while  Andreas 
still  lives.  But  when  you  and  your  heroes 
are  once  gone  to  your  eternal  rest,  then  alas 
for  thee,  poor  Venice!  I  fear  your  golden 
limes  will  soon  come  to  their  conclusion. 

Jindreas. — What?  have  we  not  many 
joung  officers  of  great  promise? 

Lomellino. — Alas!  what  are  most  of 
them?  Heroes  in  the  fields  of  Venus!  He- 
roes at  a  drinking  bout!  Effeminate  strip- 
lings, relaxed  both  in  mind  and  body!  But 


ABELLINO.  75 

how  am  I  running  on,  forgetful!  Ah! 
when  one  is  grown  so  old,  and  conversing 
with  an  Andreas,  it  is  easy  to  forget  every 
thing  else.  My  lord,  1  sought  you  with  a 
request — a  request  too  of  consequence. 

Andreas, — You  excite  my  curiosity. 

Lotnellino. — About  a  week  ago,  there 
arrived  here  a  young  Florentine  nobleman, 
called  Flodoardo,  a  youth  of  noble  appear- 
ance and  great  promise. 

Andreas.— WaWi 

Lomellino. — His  father  was  one  of  my 
dearest  friends;  he  is  dead  now,  the  good 
old  generous  nobleman!  In  our  youth  we 
served  together  on  board  the  same  vessel, 
and  many  a  turbaned  head  has  fell  beneath 
his  sword.     Ah!  he  was  a  brave  soldier. 

Andreas. — While  celebrating  the  father's 
bravery,  you  seem  to  have  quite  forgotten 
the  son. 

Lomellino. — His  son  is  arrived  in  Ven- 
ice, and  wishes  to  enter  into  the  service  of 
the  republic.  I  entreat  you  to  give  the 
young  man  some  respectable  situation;  he 
will  prove  the  boast  of  Venice,  when  we 
shall  be  in  our  graves;  on  that  would  I  haz- 
ard my  existence. 

Andreas Has  he  sense  and  talent? 

Lomellino . — That  he  has;  and  an  heart 
like  his  father's.  Will  it  please  you  to  see 
and    converse   with   him?      He  is  yonder 


76  ABELLINO. 

among  the  masks  in  the  saloon.  One  thing; 
I  must  tell  yoUj  as  a  specimen  of  his  de- 
sij];ns:  He  has  heard  of  the  banditti  who 
infest  Venice;  and  he  engages,  that  the  first 
piece  of  work  which  he  renders  the  repub- 
lic shall  be  the  delivering  into  the  hands  of 
justice  these  concealed  assassins,  who  hith- 
erto have  eluded  the  vigilance  of  our  po- 
lice. 

Andreas Indeed?  I  doubt  that  promise 

will  be  too  much  for  his  power  to  perform. 
Plodoardo,  1  think  you  call  him?  Tell  him 
1  would  speak  with  him. 

LoraeUino. — Oh!  then  I  have  gained  at 
least  half  of  my  cause,  and  I  believe  the 
whole  of  it;  for  to  see  Flodoardo,  and  not  to 
like  him,  is  as  difficult  as  to  look  at  para- 
dise and  not  wish  to  enter.  To  see  Flo- 
doardo, and  to  hate  him,  is  as  unlikely,  as 
that  a  blind  man  should  hate  the  kind  hand 
which  removes  the  cataract  from  his  eyes, 
and  pours  upon  them  the  blessings  of  light 
and  the  beauties  of  nature. 

Andreas^  (smiling.) — In  the  whole 
course  of  our  acquaintance,  Lomellino, 
never  did  I  hear  you  so  enthusiastic! — Go 
then;  conduct  this  prodigy  hither. 

Lomellino I  hasten  to  find  him.    And 

as  for  you,  Signora,  look  to  yourself!  Look 
to  yourself,  I  sav! 

Bosubella. — Nay,  pry 'thee,  Lomellino, 


ABELLINO.  77 

bring  your  hero  hither  without  delay;  you 
have  raised  my  curiosity  to  the  height. 

Lomellino  quitted  the  saloon. 
^Andreas. — How  comes  it  that  you  rejoin 
not  the  dancers,  my  child? 

Rosabella. — I  am  weary,  and  besides 
curiosity  now  detains  me  here,  for  I  would 
fain  see  this  Flodoardo,  whom  Lomellino 
thinks  deserving  of  such  extraordinary 
praise.  Shall  I  tell  you  the  truth,  my  dear 
uncle?  I  verily  believe  that  I  am  already 
acquainted  with  him.  There  was  a  mask 
in  a  Grecian  habit,  whose  appearance  was 
so  striking,  that  it  was  impossible  for  him 
to  remain  confounded  with  the  crowd:  the 
least  attentive  eye  must  have  singled  him 
out  from  among  a  thousand.  It  was  a  tall, 
light  figure,  so  graceful  in  every  movement 
then  his  dancing  was  quite  perfection! 

Andreas,  (smiling.,  and  threatening 
with  his  finger.) — Child!  child! 

Bosahella Nay,  my  dear  uncle,   what 

I  say  is  mere  justice:  it  is  possible  indeed, 
that  the  Greek  and  Florentine  may  be  two 
different  persons;  but  still,  according  to  Lo- 

meliino's    description Oh!     look,    dear 

uncle,  only  look  yonder!  there  stands  the 
Greek  as  I  live. 

Andreas — And  Lomellino  is  with  him— 
they  approach — Rosabella,  you  have  made 
a  good  guess. 
7* 


/o  ABELLINO. 

The  Doge  had  scarcely  ceased  to  speak, 
when  Lomellino  entered  the  room,  con- 
ducting a  tall  young  man,  richly  habited  in 
the  Grecian  fashion. 

"My  gracious  Lord,"  said  Lomellino, 
*' I  present  to  you  the  count  Flodoardo, 
who  humbly  sues  for  your  protection." 

Flodoardo  uncovered  his  head  in  token 
of  respect,  took  off  his  mask,  and  bowed 
low  before  the  illustrious  ruler  of  Venice. 

Andreas. — 1  understand  you  are  desir- 
ous of  serving  the  republic? 

Flodoardo. — That  is  my  ambition,  should 
vour  highness  think  me  deserving  of  such 
an  honor. 

Andreas Lomellino  speaks  highly  of 

you;  if  all  that  he  says  be  true,  how  came 
you  to  deprive  your  own  country  of  your 
services? 

Flodoardo. — Because  my  own  country 
is  not  governed  by  an  Andreas. 

Andreas You  have  intentions,  it  seems, 

of  discovering  the  haunts  of  the  banditti, 
who  for  some  time  past  have  caused  so 
many  tears  to  flow  in  Venice? 

Flodoardo If   your   highness   would 

deign  to   confide  in   me,   I    would   answer 
with   my   head   for   their  delivery   in    the 
hands  of  your  officers,  and  that  speedily. 
Andreas That  were  much  for  a  stranger 


ABELLINO.  79 

to  perform.  I  would  fain  make  the  trial 
whether  you  can  keep  your  word. 

Flodoardo. — That  is  sufficient.  To- 
morrow, or  the  day  after,  at  latest,  will  1 
perform  my  promise. 

jindreas. — And  you  make  that  promise 
so  resolutely?  Are  you  aware,  youn^;  man, 
how  dangerous  a  task  it  is  to  surprise  these 
miscreants?  They  are  never  to  be  found 
when  sought  for,  and  always  present  when 
least  expected;  they  are  at  once  every  where, 
and  no  where;  there  exists  not  a  nook  in  all 
Venice  which  our  spies  are  not  acquainted 
with,  or  have  left  unexamined,  and  yet  has 
our  police  endeavoured  in  vain  to  discover 
the  place  of  their  concealment. 

Flodoardo I    know   all   this,  and    to 

know  it  rejoices  me,  since  it  affords  me  an 
opportunity  of  convincing  the  Doge  of 
Venice,  that  my  actions  are  not  those  of  a 
common  adventurer. 

Jindreas. — Perform  your  promise,  and 
then  let  me  hear  of  you.  For  the  present, 
our  discourse  shall  end  here,  for  no  unplea- 
sant thoughts  must  disturb  the  joy  to  which 

this   day   is  dedicated Rosabella,    would 

you  not  like  to  join  the  dancers? — Count,  I 
confide  her  to  your  care. 

Flodoardo — I  could  not  be  entrusted 
with  a  more  precious  charge. 

Rosabella,  during  this  conversation,  had 


80  ABELLINO. 

been  leaning  against  the  back  of  her  uncle's 
chair:  she  repeated  to  herself  Lomellino's 
assertion,  *^  That  to  see  Flodoardo,  and  not 
to  like  him,  was  as  difficult  as  to  look  at 
Paradise,  and  not  wish  to  enter;"  and  while 
she  gazed  on  the  youth,  she  allowed  that 
Lomellino  had  not  exaggerated.  When 
her  uncle  desired  Flodoardo  to  conduct  her 
to  the  dancers,  a  soft  blush  overspread  her 
cheeks,  and  she  doubted  whether  she  should 
accept  or  decline  the  hand  which  was  im- 
mediately offered. 

And  to  tell  you  my  real  opinion,  my  fair 
ladies,  I  suspect  that  very  few  of  you  would 
have  been  more  collected  that  Rosabella, 
had  you  found  yourselves  similarly  situa- 
ted! In  truth,  such  a  form  as  Flodoardo's! 
a  countenance  whose  physiognomy  seemed 
a  passport  at  once  to  the  heart  of  all  who 
examined  it;  features  so  exquisitely  fash- 
ioned, that  the  artist  who  wished  to  execute 
a  model  of  manly  beauty,  had  he  imitated 
them,  would  have  had  nothing  to  supply  or 
improve  ;  features,  every  one  of  which 
spoke  so  clearly, — ■«' The  bosom  of  this 
youth  contains  the  heart  of  an  hero:" — ah! 
ladies,  my  dear  ladies,  a  man  like  this  might 
well  make  some  little  confusion  in  the 
head  and  heart  of  a  poor  young  girl,  tender 
and  unsuspicious! 

Flodoardo    took    Rosabella's   hand,  and 


ABELLINO. 


81 


led  her  into  the  ball-room.  Here  all  was 
mirth  and  splendor;  the  roofs  re-echoed 
with  the  full  swell  of  harmony,  and  the 
floor  trembled  beneath  the  multitude  of 
dancers,  who  formed  a  thousand  beautiful 
groups  by  the  blaze  of  innumerable  lustres. 
Yet  Flodoardo  and  Rosabella  passed  on  ia 
silence,  till  they  reached  the  extreme  end 
of  the  greatest  saloon.  Here  they  stopped, 
and  remained  before  an  open  window. — 
Some  minutes  passed,  and  still  they  spoke 
not.  Sometimes  they  gazed  on  each  other, 
sometimes  on  the  dancers,  sometimes  on  the 
moon ;  and  then  again  they  forgot  each  other, 
the  dancers,  and  the  moon,  and  were  to- 
tally absorbed  in  themselves. 

'*Lady,"  said  Flodoardo  at  length,  ''can 
there  be  a  greater  misfortune?" 

"A  misfortune!"  said  Rosabella,  start- 
ing, as  if  suddenly  awaking  from  a  dream; 
"  what  misfortune,  Signor?  who  is  unfor- 
tunate?" 

''  He  who  is  doomed  to  behold  the  joys 
of  elysium,  and  never  to  possess  them:  he 
who  dies  of  thirst,  and  sees  a  cup  stand  full 
before  him,  but  which  he  knows  is  destined 
for  the  lips  of  another!" 

''  And  are  you,  rny  lord,  this  out-cast 
from  elysium?  are  you  the  thirsty  one  who 
stands  near  the  cup  which  is  filled  for  ano- 


82  ABELLINO. 

ther?  is  it  thus  that  you  wish  me  to  under- 
stand your  speech?^' 

*'  You  understand  it  as  I  meant:  and  now 
tell  me,  lovely  Rosabella,  am  I  not  indeed 
unfortunate?" 

**  And  where  then  is  the  elysium  which 
you  must  never  possess?" 

"Where  Rosabella  is,  there  is  elysium.' 

Rosabella  blushed,  and  cast  her  eyes  on 
the  ground. 

<'  You  are  not  offended,  Signora?"  said 
Flodoardo,  and  took  her  hand  with  an  air 
of  respectful  tenderness;  "  has  this  open- 
ness displeased  j'ou!" 

*^  You  are  a  native  of  Florence,  Count 
Flodoardo;  in  Venice  we  dislike  these  kind 
of  compliments;  at  least  /  dislike  them,  and 
wish  to  hear  them  from  no  person  less  than 
from  you." 

<^  By  my  life,  Signora,  I  spoke  but  as  1 
thought;  my  words  concealed  no  flattery." 

**See!  the  Doge  enters  the  saloon  with 
Manfrone  and  Lomellino;  he  will  seek 
us  among  the  dancers.  Come,  let  us  join 
them." 

Flodoardo  followed  her  in  silence.  The 
dance  began.  HeavensI  how  lovely  looked 
Rosabella,  as  she  glided  along  to  the  sweet 
sounds  of  music,  conducted  by  Flodoardo! 
Howhandsomelooked  Flodoardo, as,  lighter 
than  air,  he  flew  down  the  dance,  vvhile  his 


ABELLINO.  83 

bi'illiant  eyes  saw  no  object  but  Rosabella! 
He  was  still  without  his  mask,  and  bare- 
headed; but  every  eye  glanced  away  from 
the  helmets  and  burettes,  waving  with 
plumes  and  sparkling  with  jewels,  to  gaze 
on  Flodoardo's  raven  locks,  as  they  floated 
on  the  air  in  wild  luxuriance.  A  murmur 
of  admiration  rose  from  every  corner  of  the 
saloon,  but  it  rose  unmarked  by  those  who 
were  the  objects  of  it;  neither  Rosabella 
nor  Flodoardo  at  that  moment  formed  a 
wish  to  be  applauded,  except  by  each  other. 


84  ABELLINO. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  FLORENTINE  STRANGER. 

Two  evenings  had  elapsed  since  the 
Doge's  entertainment;  on  the  second,  Pa- 
rozzi  sat  in  his  own  apartment  with  Mem- 
mo  and  Fa-lieri.  Dimly  burnt  the  lights: 
lowering  and  tempestuous  were  the  skies 
without;  gloomy  and  fearful  were  the  souls 
of  the  libertines  within. 

Parozzi,  (after  a  long  silence.) — What 
are  you  both  dreaming  ?  Ho,  there!  Mem- 
mo,  Falieri,  fill  your  goblets. 

Memmo^  (with  indifference. )  — Well 
— to  please  you — but  I  care  not  for  wine 
to-night. 

Falieri. — Nor  1.  Methinks  it  tastes 
like  vinegar.  Yet  the  wine  itself  is  good; 
'tis  our  ill  temper  spoils  it. 

Parozzi. — Confound  the  rascals! 

Memrao. — What  ?  the  banditti  ? 

Parozzi. — Not  a  trace  of  them  can  be 
found.  It  is  enough  to  kiii  one  with  vex- 
ation. 

Falieri. — And  in  the  meanwhile,  the 
time  runs  out,  our  projects  will  get  wind, 
and  then  we  sit  quietly  in  the  state  prisons 


ABELLINO.  85 

of  Venice,  objects  of  derision  to  the  popu- 
lace and  ourselves!  I  could  tear  my  flesh 
for  anger {A  universal  silence.) 

Parozzi,  {striking  his  hand  against 
the  table jjassionateiy.) — Flodoardo!  Flo- 
doardo! 

Falieri. — In  a  couple  of  hours  I  must 
attend  the  Cardinal  Gonzaga;  and  what 
intelligence  shall  I  have  to  give  him  ? 

Memmo. — Come,  come — Contarino  can- 
not have  been  absent  so  long  without  cause. 
1  warrant  you  he  will  bring  some  news 
with  him  when  he  arrives. 

Falieri. — Psha!  psha!  my  life  on't,  he 
lies  at  this  moment  at  Olympia's  feet,  and 
forgets  us,  the  republic,  the  banditti,  and 
himself. 

Parozzi. — And  so  neither  of  you  know 
any  thing  of  this  Flodoardo  ? 

Menimo. — No  more  than  of  what  hap- 
pened on  Rosabella^s  birth  day. 

Falieri. — Well  then,  1  know  one  thing 
more  about  him — Parozzi  is  jealous  of  him. 

Parozzi. — 1  ?  Ridiculous!  Rosabella 
may  bestow  her  hand  on  the  German  em- 
peror or  a  Venitian  gondolier,  without  its 
giving  me  the  least  anxiety. 

Falieri — Ha!  ha!  ha! 

Memmo. — Well,  one  thing  at  least  even 
envy  must  confess — Flodoardo  is  the  hand- 
8 


86 


ABELLINO. 


somest  man  in  Venice.  I  doubt  whether 
there's  a  woman  in  the  city  who  has  virtue 
enough  to  resist  him. 

Parozzi. — And  I  should  doubt  it  too,  if 
women  had  as  little  sense  as7/oii  have,  and 
looked  only  at  the  shell,  without  minding 

the  kernel 

Memmo. — Which  unluckily  is  exactly 
the  thing  which  women  always  do. 

Falieri. — The  old  Lomellino  seems  to 
be  extremely  intimate  with  this  Flodoar- 
do;  they  say  he  was  acquainted  with  his 
father. 

Memmo. — It  was  he  who  presented  him 
to  the  Doge. 

Parozzi. — Hark! — Surely  some  one 
knocked  at  the  palace  door. 

Memmo. — It  can  be  none  but  Con- 
tarino.  Now,  then,  we  shall  hear  whether 
he  has  discovered  the  banditti. 

Falieri,  {starting from  his  chair.) — Pll 
swear  to  that  footstep — it's  Contarino. 

The  doors  were  thrown  open,  and  Con- 
tarino entered  hastily,  enveloped  in  his 
cloak.  "  Good  evening,  sweet  gentlemen," 
said  he,  and  threw  his  mantle  aside.  Mem- 
mo, Parozzi,  and  Falieri  started  back  in 
horror.  "Contarino!"  they  exclaimed, 
"  what  has  happened  ?  You  are  covered 
with  blood." 

"A   tride!"    cried   Contarino:   "is   that 


ABELLINO. 


87 


wine  ?  quick,  give   me  a   goblet  of  it!      I 
expire  with  thirst." 

Falieri^  {while  he  gives  him  a  cup.) — 
But,  Contarino!  you  bleed  ? 

Contarino You  need  not  tell  me  that 

— I  did  not  do  it  myself,  I  promise  you. 

Parozzi. — First,  let  us  bind  up  your 
wounds,  and  then  tell  us  what  has  happen- 
ed to  you.  It  is  as  well  the  servants 
should  remain  ignorant  of  your  adventure  ; 
I  will  be  your  surgeon  myself. 

Contarino. — What  has  happened  to  me, 
say  you  ?  0!  a  joke,  gentlemen!  a  mere 
joke! — Here,  Falieri,  fill  the  bowl  again. 

Memmo. — I  can  scarcely  breathe  for 
terror. 

Contarino.  —  Very  possibly;  neither 
should  I,  were  I  Memmo,  instead  of  being 
Contarino.  The  wound  bleeds  plenteously, 
it's  true,  but  it  is  by  no  means  dangerous — 
{he  tore  open  his  doublet,  and  uncovered 
his  bosom,)  There  look,  comrades!  you 
see  it's  only  a  cut  of  not  more  than  two 
inches  deep. 

Memmo,  (shuddering.)  —  jVIercy  on 
me  !  the  very  sight  of  it  makes  my  blood 
run   cold. 

Parozzi  brought  ointments  and  linen,  and 
bound  up  the  wound  of  his  associate. 

Contarino. — Old  Horace  is  in  the  right  ; 
a  philosopher  can  be  any  thing  he  pleases, 


88  ABELLINO. 

a  cobbler,  a  king,  or  a  physician.  Only 
observe  with  what  dignified  address  the 
philosopher  Parozzi  spreads  that  plaster 
forme  !  I  thank  you,  friend  ;  that's  enough. 
And  now,  comrades,  place  yourselves  in  a 
circle  round  me,  and  listen  to  the  wonders 
which  I  am  going  to  relate. 

Falieri. — Proceed. 

Contarino. — As  soon  as  it  was  twill ight, 
I  stole  out,  wrapped  in  my  cloak,  deter- 
mined if  possible,  to  discover  some  of  the 
banditti  ;  I  knew  not  their  persons,  neither 
were  they  acquainted  with  mine  ; — an  ex- 
travagant undertaking,  perhaps  you  will 
tell  me  ;  but  I  was  resolved  to  convince 
you  that  every  thing  which  a  man  deter- 
mines to  do,  may  be  done.  I  had  some 
information  respecting  the  rascals,  though 
it  was  but  slight,  and  on  these  grounds  I 
proceeded.  I  happened  by  mere  accident 
to  stumble  upon  a  gondolier,  whose  ap- 
pearance excited  my  curiosity.  I  fell  into 
discourse  with  him;  I  was  soon  convinced 
that  he  was  not  ignorant  of  the  lurking- 
place  of  the  Bravos,  and  by  means  of  some 
gold  and  many  fair  speeches,  I  at  length 
brought  him  to  confess,  that  though  not 
regularly  belonging  to  the  band,  he  had 
occasionally  been  employed  by  them.  I 
immediately  made  a  bargain  with  him; — 
he  conducted  me  in  his  gondola  through 


ABELLINO. 


89 


the  greatest  part  of  Venice,  sometimes  rio;ht 
and  sometimes  left,  till  I  lost  every  idea 
as  to  the  quarter  of  the  town  in  which  I 
found  myself.  At  length  he  insisted  on 
binding  my  eyes  with  his  handkerchief, 
and  I  was  compelled  to  submit  to  this  con- 
dition. Half  an  hour  elapsed  before  the 
gondola  stopped;  he  told  me  to  descend, 
conducted  me  through  a  couple  of  streets, 
and  at  length  knocked  at  a  door,  where  he 
left  me  still  blindfolded — the  door  was 
opened;  my  business  was  inquired  with 
great  caution,  and  after  some  demur  I  was 
at  length  admitted.  The  handkerchief 
was  now  withdrawn  from  my  eyes,  and 
I  found  myself  in  a  small  chamber,  sur- 
rounded by  four  men  of  not  the  most 
creditable  appearance,  and  a  young  woman, 
who,  it  seems,  had  opened  the  door  for  me. 

Falieri. — You  are  a  daring  fellow,  Con- 
tarino. 

Contarino. — Here  was  no  time  to  be  lost. 
I  instantly  threw  my  purse  on  the  table, 
promised  them  mountains  of  gold,  and  fixed 
on  particular  days,  hours  and  signals, 
wiiich  w^ere  necessary  to  facilitate  our  fu- 
ture intercourse.  For  the  present  I  only 
required  that  Manfrone,  Conari,  and  Lo- 
mellino  should  be  removed  with  all  possi- 
ble expedition. 

.^//.— Bravo! 
S* 


90  ABELLINO. 

Contarino. — So  far  every  thing  went 
exactly  as  we  could  have  wished;  and  one 
of  my  new  associates  was  just  setting  out 
to  guide  me  home,  when  we  were  sur 
prised  by  an  unexjoected  visit. 

FarozzL—WeW  ? 

Memino,  [anxiously.)  —  Go  on,  for 
Heaven's  sake  I 

Contarino. — A  knocking  was  heard  at 
the  door;  the  girl  went  to  enquire  the 
cause;  in  an  instant  she  returned  pale  as  a 
corse,  and — ''  Fly!  fly!"  cried  she. 

Falieri. — What  followed  ? 

Contari 710. —Why  then  follovved  a  whole 
legion  of  sbirri  and  police-officers;  and  who 
should  be  at  their  head  but the  Flo- 
rentine stranger! 

tjill. — Flodoardo!  what,  Flodoardo  ? 

Contarino. — Flodoardo. 

Falieri What  demon  could  have  gui- 
ded him  thither  ? 

Parozzi. — Hell  and  furies!  0!  that  I 
had  been  there! 

Memmo. — There  now,  Parozzi!  you 
see  at  least  see  that  Flodoardo  is  no  cow- 
ard. 

Falieri. — Hush,  let  us  hear  the  rest. 

Contarino We   stood    as    if   we    had 

been  petrified;  not  a  soul  could  move  a  fin- 
ger. ^*  In  the  name  of  the  Doge  and  the 
republic,"  cried    Flodoardo,  '*  yield  your- 


ABELLINO.  91 

selves,  and  deliver  your  arms."  ^<  The 
devil  shall  yield  himself  sooner  than  we," 
exclaimed  one  of  the  banditti,  and  forced  a 
sword  from  one  of  the  officers;  the  others 
snatched  muskets  from  the  wails;  and  as 
for  me,  my  first  care  was  to  extinguish  the 
lamp,  so  that  we  could  not  tell  friends 
from  foes.  But  still  the  confounded  moon- 
shine gleamed  through  the  window-shut- 
ters, and  shed  a  partial  light  through  the 
room.  *«  Look  to  yourself,  Contarino!" 
thought  I;  ''if  you  are  found  here,  you 
will  be  hanged  for  company!"  and  I  drew 
my  sword  and  made  a  lounge  at  P'iodoardo. 
But,  however  well  intended,  my  thrust 
was  foiled  by  his  sabre,  which  he  whirled 
around  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning.  I 
fought  like  a  madman,  but  all  my  skill  was 
without  effect  on  this  occasion,  and  before 
I  was  aware  of  it,  Flodoardo  ripped  open 
my  bosom.  I  found  myself  wounded,  and 
sprang  back;  at  that  moment  two  pistols 
were  fired,  and  the  flash  discovered  to  me 
a  small  side  door  which  they  had  neglected 
to  beset;  through  this  I  stole  unperceived 
into  the  adjoining  chamber,  burst  open  the 
grated  window,  sprang  below  unhurt,  cros- 
sed a  court  yard, climbed  two  or  three  garden 
walls,  gained  the  canal,  vvhere  a  gondola 
fortunately  was  waiting,  persuaded  the 
boatman   to  convey   me  with  all  speed  to 


92  ABELLINO. 

the  palace  of  St.  Mark,  and  then  hastened 
hither,  astonished  to  find  myself  alive. — 
There  is  an  infernal  adventure  for  you. 

Farozzi. — I  shall  go  mad! 

Falieri. — Every  thing  we  design  is 
counteracted!  The  more  trouble  we  give 
ourselves,  the  further  we  are  from  the  goal. 

Memmo. — I  confess,  it  seems  to  me  as 
if  Heaven  gave  us  warning  to  desist.  How 
say  you  ? 

Contarino. — Psha!  these  are  trifles. 
Such  accidents  should  only  serve  to  sharpen 
our  wits.  The  more  obstacles  I  encounter 
the  firmer  is  my  resolution  to  surmount 
them. 

Falieri. — Do  the  banditti  know  who 
you  are  ? 

Contarino. — No;  they  are  not  only  ig- 
norant of  my  name,  but  suppose  me  to  be  a 
mere  instrument  of  some  powerful  man, 
who  has  been  injured  by  the  ducal  confed- 
erates. 

Memnio. — Well,  Contarino,  in  my  mind 
you  should  thank  heaven  that  you  have 
escaped  so  well. 

Falieri. — But  since  he  is  an  absolute 
stranger  in  Venice,  how  could  Flodoardo 
discover  the  lurking-place  of  the  banditti  ? 

Contarino. — I  know  not — probably  by 
mere  accident,  like   myself.     But  by   the 


A  BELLING.  93 

powers  that  made  me,  he  shall  pay  dearly 
for  this  wound! 

Falieri. — Flodoardo  is  rather  too  hasty 
in  making  himself  remarked. 

Parozzi, — Flodoardo  must  die  I 

Contarino,  [filling  a  goblet.) — May  his 
next  cup  contain  poison! 

Falieri. — I  shall  do  myself  the  honor  of 
becoming  better  acquainted  with  the  gen- 
tleman. 

Contarino. — Memmo,  we  must  needs 
have  full  purses,  or  our  business  will  hang 
on  hand  wofully.  When  does  your  uncle 
take  his  departure  for  a  better  world  ? 

Memmo. — To-morrow  evening!  —  and 
yet — Ugh!  I  tremble! 


94  ABELLINO. 


CHAPTER  III. 

MORE    CONFUSION. 

Since  Rosabella's  birth-day,  no  woman 
in  Venice  who  had  the  slightest  pretensions 
to  beauty,  or  the  most  remote  expectations 
in  making  conquests,  had  any  subject  of  con- 
versation except  the  handsome  Florentine: 
he  found  employment  for  every  female 
tongue,  and  she  who  dared  not  employ  her 
tongue,  made  amends  for  the  privation  with 
her  thoughts.  Many  a  maiden  now  enjoyed 
less  tranquil  slumbers;  many  an  experienced 
coquette  sighed,  as  she  laid  on  colour  at 
the  looking-glass;  many  a  prude  foro^ot 
the  rules  which  she  had  imposed  upon  her 
self,  and  daily  frequented  the  gardens  and 
public  walks,  in  which  report  gave  her  the 
hope  of  meeting  Flodoardo. 

But  from  the  time,  that,  placing  himself 
at  the  head  of  the  sbirri,  he  had  dared  to 
enter  boldly  the  den  of  the  banditti,  and 
seize  them  at  the  hazard  of  his  life,  he  was 
scarcely  more  an  object  of  attention  among 
the  women  than  the  men.  Greatly  did  they 
admire  his  courage  and  unshaken  presence 


ABELLINO.  95 

of  mind  while  engaged  in  so  perilous  an 
adventure;  but  still  more  were  they  aston- 
ished at  his  penetration  in  discovering 
where  the  Bravos  concealed  themselves; 
an  attempt  which  had  foiled  even  the  keen 
wits  of  the  so  much  celebrated  police  of 
Venice. 

The  Doge  Andreas  cultivated  the  ac- 
quaintance of  this  singular  young  man  with 
increasing  assiduity;  and  the  more  he  con- 
versed with  him,  the  more  deserving  of 
consideration  did  Flodoardo  appear.  The 
action  by  which  he  had  rendered  the  repub- 
lic a  service  so  essential,  was  rewarded  by 
a  present  that  would  not  have  disgraced 
imperial  gratitude;  and  one  of  the  most 
important  offices  in  the  state  was  confided 
to  his  superintendence. 

Both  favours  were  conferred  unsolicited; 
but  no  sooner  was  the  Florentine  apprised 
of  the  Doge's  benevolent  care  of  him,  than 
with  modesty  and  respect  he  requested  to 
decline  the  proposed  advantages.  The  only 
favor  which  he  requested  was,  to  be  per- 
mitted to  live  free  and  independent  in  Ve- 
nice during  a  year;  at  the  end  of  which 
time  he  promised  to  name  that  employment 
which  he  esteemed  the  best  adapted  to  his 
abilities  and  inclination. 

Flodoardo  was  lodged  in  the  magnificent 
palace  of  his   good   old   patron  Lomellino, 


96  ABELLINO. 

where  he  lived  in  the  greatest  retirement, 
studied  the  most  valuable  parts  of  ancient 
and  modern  literature,  remained  for  whole 
days  together  in  his  own  apartment,  and 
was  seldom  to  be  seen  in  public,  except  up- 
on some  great  solemnity. 

But  the  Doge,  Lomellino,  Manfrone,  and 
Conari,  men  who  had  established  the  fame 
of  Venice  on  so  firm  a  basis,  that  it  would 
require  centuries  to  undermine  it;  men,  in 
whose  society  one  seemed  to  be  withdrawn 
from  the  circle  of  ordinary  mortals,  and 
honoured  by  the  intercourse  of  superior  be- 
ings; men  who  now  graciously  received  the 
Florentine  stranger  into  their  intimacy,  and 
resolved  to  spare  no  pains  in  forming  him 
to  support  the  character  of  a  great  man — it 
could  not  long  escape  the  observation  of 
men  like  these,  that  Flonoardo's  gaiety  was 
assumed,  and  that  a  secret  sorrow  preyed 
upon  his  heart. 

In  vain  did  Lomellino,  who  loved  him 
like  a  father,  endeavor  to  discover  the 
source  of  his  melancholy — in  vain  did  the 
venerable  Doge  exert  himself  to  disperse 
the  gloom  which  oppressed  his  young  fa- 
vorite;— Flodoardo  remained  silent  and 
sad. 

And  Rosabella — Rosabella  would  have 
belied  her  sex,  had  she  remained  gay  while 
Flodoardo    sorrowed.     Her    spirits    were 


ABELLINO.  97 

flown;  her  eyes  were  frequently  obscured 
witli  tears.  She  grew  daily  paler;  till  the 
Doge  who  doated  on  her,  was  seriously 
alarmed  for  her  health.  At  lejgth  Rosa- 
bella grew  really  ill:  a  fever  fixed  itself  up- 
on her:  she  became  weak,  and  was  confined 
to  her  chamber;  and  her  complaint  baffled 
the  skill  of  the  most  experienced  physicians 
in  Venice. 

In  the  midst  of  these  unpleasant  circum- 
stances in  which  Andreas  and  his  friends 
now  found  themselves,  an  accident  occurred 
one  morning,  which  raised  their  uneasiness 
to  the  very  highest  pitch.  Never  had  so 
bold  and  audacious  an  action  been  heard  of 
in  Venice,  as  that  which  I  am  now  going 
to  relate. 

The  four  banditti  whom  Flodoardo  had 
seized,  Petrino,  Struzzo,  Baluzzo,  and 
Tomasso,  had  been  safely  committed  to  the 
Doge's  dungeons,  when  they  underwent  a 
daily  examination,  and  looked  upon  every 
sun  that  rose,  as  the  last  that  would  ever 
rise  to  them.  Andreas  and  his  confidential 
counsellors  now  flattered  themselves  that 
the  public  tranquillity  had  nothing  to  ap- 
prehend, and  that  Venice  was  completely 
purified  from  the  miscreants,  whom  gold 
could  bribe  to  be  the  instruments  of  revenge 
and  cruelty — when,  all  at  once,  the  follow- 
ing address  was  discovered  affixed  to  most 
9 


98  ABELLINO. 

of  the  remarkable  statues,  and  pasted 
against  the  corners  of  the  principal  streets, 
and  pillars  of  the  public  buildings: 


Struzzo,  Tomaso,  Petrino,  Baluzzo,  and 
Matteo,  five  as  brave  men  as  the  world 
ever  produced;  who  had  they  stood  at  the 
head  of  armies,  would  have  been  called 
heroes^  and  now  being  called  banditti,  are 
fallen  victims  to  the  justice  of  state  policy 
— these  men,  it  is  true,  exist  for  you  no 
longer:  but  their  place  is  supplied  by  him 
whose  name  is  affixed  to  this  paper,  and 
who  will  stand  by  his  employers  with  body 
and  with  soul!  I  laugh  at  the  vigilance  of 
the  Venetian  police;  I  laugh  at  the  crafty 
and  insolent  Florentine,  whose  hand  has 
dragged  my  brethren  to  the  rack.  Let  those 
who  need  me  seek  me;  they  will  find  me 
every  where.  Let  those  who  search  for 
me  with  the  design  of  delivering  me  up  to 
the  law,  despair  and  tremble;  they  will  find 
me  no  where.  But  I  shall  find  them,  and 
that  when  they  least  expect  me.  Venetians, 
you  understand  me!  Woe  to  the  man  who 
shall  attempt  to  discover  me;  his  life  and 
death  depend  upon  my  pleasure.  This 
comes  from  the  Venetian  Bravo, 

ABELLINO. 


ABELLINO.  99 

*<An  hundred  sequins/'  exclaimed  the 
incensed  Doge  on  reading  the  paper,  ''an 
hundred  sequins  to  him  who  discovers  this 
monster  Abellino,  and  a  thousand  to  him 
who  delivers  him  up  to  justice!" 

But  in  vain  did  spies  ransack  every  lurk- 
ing place  in  Venic:  no  Abellino  was  to  be 
found.  In  vain  did  the  luxurious,  the  ava- 
ricious and  the  hungry  stretch  their  wits 
to  the  uttermost,  incited  by  the  tempting 
promise  of  a  thousand  sequins — Abellino's 
prudence  set  all  their  ingenuity  at  defiance. 

But  not  the  less  did  every  one  assert  that 
he  had  recognised  Abaellino,  sometimes  in 
one  disguise,  and  sometimes  in  another;  as 
an  old  man,  a  gondolier,  a  woman,  or  a 
monk.  Every  body  had  seen  him  some- 
where; but  unluckily  nobody  could  tell 
where  he  was  to  be  seen  again. 


100  ABELLINO. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    VIOLET. 

T  INFORMED  my  readers  in  the  beginning 
of  the  last  chapter,  that  Flodonrdo  was  be- 
come melancholy,  and  that  Rosabella  was 
indisposed;  but  I  did  not  tell  them  what  had 
occasioned  this  sudden  change. 

Flodoardo,  who  on  his  first  arrival  at 
Venice  was  all  gaiety,  and  the  life  of  every 
society  in  which  he  mingled,  lost  his  spirits 
on  one  particular  day;  and  it  so  happened, 
that  it  was  on  the  very  same  day  that  Rosa- 
bella betrayed  the  first  symptoms  of  indis- 
position. 

For  on  this  unlucky  day,  did  the  caprice 
of  accident,  or  perhaps  the  goddess  of  Love 
(who  has  her  caprices  too  every  now  and 
then,)  conduct  Rosabella  into  her  uncle's 
garden,  which  none  but  the  Doge's  intimate 
friends  were  permitted  to  enter,  and  where 
the  Doge  himself  frequently  reposed  in  so- 
litude and  silence  during  the  evening  hours 
of  a  sultry  day. 

Rosabella,  lost  in  thought,  wandered  list- 
less and   unconscious  along  the  broad  and 


ABELLINO.  101 

shady  alleys  of  the  o;arden.  Sometimes, 
in  a  moment  of  vexation,  she  plucked  the 
unoffending  leaves  from  the  hedges,  and 
strewed  them  upon  the  ground;  sometimes 
she  stopped  suddenly,  then  rushed  forward 
with  impetuosity,  then  again  stood  still, 
and  gazed  upon  the  clear  blue  heaven. — 
Sometimes  her  beautiful  bosom  was  heaved 
with  quick  and  irregular  motion;  and  some- 
times a  half  suppressed  sigh  escaped  from 
her  lips  of  corah 

'*He  is  very  handsome,"  she  murmured, 
and  gazed  with  such  earnestness  on  vacancy 
as  if  she  had  seen  something  there  which 
was  hidden  from  the  sight  of  common  ob- 
servers. 

^'  Yet  Camilla  was  in  the  right,''  she  re- 
sumed after  a  pause;  and  she  frowned  as  if 
she  had  said  Camilla  was  in  the  wrong. 

This  Camilla  was  her  governess,  her 
friend,  her  confidant;  I  may  almost  say  her 
mother.  Rosabella  had  lost  her  parents 
early:  her  mother  died  when  her  child 
could  scarcely  lisp  her  name;  and  her  father, 
Guiscardo  of  Corfu,  the  commander  of  a 
Venetian  vessel,  eight  years  before,  had 
perished  in  an  engagement  with  the  Turks, 
while  he  was  still  in  the  prime  of  life.  Ca- 
milla, one  of  the  worthiest  creatures  that 
ever  dignified  the  nameof  woman,  supplied 
to   Rosabella    the   place   of  a   mother,  had 


102  ABELLINO. 

brouo;ht  her  up  from  infancy,  and  was  now 
her  best  friend,  and  the  person  to  whose  ear 
she  confided  all  her  little  secrets. 

While  Rosabella  was  still  buried  in  her 
own  reflections,  the  excellent  Camilla  ad- 
vanced from  a  side  path,  and  hastened  to 
join  her  pupil.      Rosabella  started. 

Rosabella. — Ah!  dear  Camilla,  is  it  you? 
What  brings  you  hither? 

Camilla. — You  often  call  me  your  guar- 
dian angel,  and  guardian  angels  should  al- 
ways be  near  the  object  of  their  care. 

Rosabella Camilla,  I  have  been  think- 
ing over  your  arguments;  1  cannot  deny 
that  all  you  have  said  to  me  is  very  true, 
and  very  wise;  but  still 

Camilla. — But  still,  though  your  pru- 
dence agrees  with  me,  your  heart  is  of  a 
contrary  opinion. 

Rosabella. — It  is,  indeed. 

Camilla. — Nor  do  I  blame  your  heart 
for  differing  from  me,  my  poor  girl.  I  have 
acknowledged  to  you  without  disguise,  that 
were  I  at  your  time  of  life,  and  were  such 
a  man  as  Fiodoardo  to  throw  himself  in  my 
way,  I  could  not  receive  his  attentions  with 
indifference.  It  cannot  be  denied,  that  this 
3'oung  stranger  is  uncommonly  pleasing, 
and  indeed  for  any  woman  whose  heart  is 
disengaged,  an  uncommonly  dangerous 
companion.    There  is  something  WQvy  pre- 


ABELLINO.  103 

possessing  in  his  appearance;  his  manners 
are  elegant,  and,  short  as  has  been  his 
abode  in  Venice,  it  is  ah*eady  past  doubt- 
ing that  there  are  many  noble  and  striking 
features  in  his  character.  But,  alas,  after 
all,  he  is  but  a  poor  nobleman,  and  it  is 
not  very  probable  that  the  rich  and  power- 
ful doge  of  Venice,  will  ever  bestow  his 
niece  on  one  who  to  speak  plainly,  arriv- 
ed here  little  better  than  a  beggar.  No, 
no,  child,  believe  me;  a  romantic  adven- 
turer is  no  lit  husband  for  Rosabella  of 
Corfu. 

Rosabella. — Dear  Camilla,  who  was 
lalkino;  about  husbands?  What  1  feel  for 
Flodoarrlo  is  merely  affection,  friendship — 

Camilla. — Indeed?  Then  you  would  be 
perfectly  satisfied,  should  some  one  of  our 
wealthy  ladies  bestow  her  hand  on  Flodoar- 
do? 

Rosabella  ( hastily.) — Oh!  Flodoardo 
would  not  accept  her  hand,  Camilla;  of  that 
I  am  sure. 

Camilla. — Child!  child!  you  would  wil- 
lingly deceive  yourself.  But  be  assured, 
that  a  girl  who  loves,  ever  connects  (perhaps 
unconsciously)  the  wish  for  an  ^K^vwdXunion 
with  the  idea  of  endless  affection.  Now 
this  is  a  wish  which  you  cannot  indulge  in 
regard  to  Flodoardo,  without  seriously  of- 
fending your  uncle,   who,  good  man  as  he 


104  ABELLINO. 

is,   must  still   submit  to  the  severe  control 
of  politics  and  etiquette. 

Rosabella, — I  know  all  that,  Camilla; 
but  can  1  not  make  you  comprehend  that  I 
am  not  in  love  with  Flodoardo,  and  do  not 
mean  to  be  in  love  with  him,  and  that  love 
has  nothing  at  all  to  do  in  the  business?  I 
repeat  to  you,  what  I  feel  for  him  is  nothing 
but  sincere  friendship;  and  surely  Flodoar- 
do deserves  that  I  should  feel  that  sentiment 
for  him.  Deserve  it,  said  I?  Oh!  what  does 
Flodoardo  not  deserve? 

Camilla. — Aye!  aye!  friendship  indeed 
— and  love — Oh!  Rosabella,  you  know  not 
how  often  these  deceivers  borrow  each 
other's  mask  to  ensnare  the  hearts  of  unsus- 
pecting maidens!  you  know  not  how  often 
love  finds  admission  when  wi-apped  in 
friendship's  cloak,  and  that  bosom,  which, 
had  he  approached  under  his  own  appear- 
ance, would  have  been  closed  against  him 
forever!  In  short,  m}^  child,  reflect  how 
much  you  owe  to  your  uncle;  reflect  how 
much  uneasiness  this  inclination  would  cost 
him,  and  sacrifice  to  duty  what  at  present 
is  a  mere  caprice,  but  which,  if  encouraged, 
might  make  too  deep  an  impression  on  your 
heart  to  be  afterwards  removed  by  your  best 
etforts. 

Rosabella. — You  say  right,  Camilla;  I 
really  believe  myself  that  my  prepossession 


ABELLINO.  105 

in  Flodoardo's  favour  is  merely  an  acciden- 
tal fancy,  of  which  1  shall  easily  get  the 
better.  No,  no,  I  am  not  in  love  with 
Flodoardo,  of  that  you  may  rest  assured; 
I  even  think  that  I  rather  feel  an  antipathy 
towards  him,  since  you  have  shewn  me  the 
possibility  of  his  making  me  prove  a  cause 
of  uneasiness  to  my  kind,  my  excellent 
uncle. 

Camilla,  (smiling. ) — Are  your  senti- 
ments of  duty  and  gratitude  so  very  strong? 

Rosabella. — Oh!  that  they  are,  Camilla, 
and  so  you  will  say  yourself  hereafter. — 
This  disagreeable  Flodoardo — to  give  me 
so  much  vexation !  I  wish  he  had  never 
come  to  Venice!  I  declare  I  do  not  like  him 
at  all. 

Camilla.— '^o}  What?  Not  like  Flodo- 
ardo? 

Rosabella,  (casting  down  her  eyes. )  — 
No;  not  at  all — not  that  I  wish  him  any  ill 
either;  for  you  know,  Camilla,  there's  no 
reason  why  I  should  hale  this  poor  Flodo- 
ardo. 

Camilla. — Well,  we  will  resume  this 
subject  when  I  return;  I  have  business,  and 
the  gondola  waits  for  me.  Farewell,  my 
child,  and  do  not  lay  aside  your  resolution 
as  hastily  as  you  took  it  up. 

Camilla  departed;  and  Rosabella  remain- 
ed melancholy  and  uncertain;  she  built  cas- 


106  ABELLINC. 

ties  in  the  air,  and  destroyed  them  as  soon 
as  built;  she  formed  wi.shes,  and  condemned 
herself  for  having  formed  them;  she  looked 
round  her  frequently  in  search  of  something, 
but  dared  not  confess  to  herself  what  it  was 
of  which  she  was  in  search. 

The  evening  was  sultry,  and  Rosabella 
was  compelled  to  shelter  herself  from  the 
sun's  overpowering  heat.  In  the  garden 
was  a  small  fountain,  bordered  by  a  bank 
of  moss,  over  which  the  magic  hands  of 
art  and  nature  had  formed  a  canopy  of  ivy 
and  jessamine.  Thither  she  bent  her  steps; 
she  arrived  at  the  fountain — and  instantly 
drew  back,  covered  with  blushes — for  on 
the  bank  of  moss,  shaded  by  the  protect- 
ing canopy,  whose  waving  blossoms  were 
reflected  on  the  fountain,  Flodoardo  was 
seated,  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  a  roll  of  parch- 
ment. 

Rosabella  hesitated  whether  she  should 
retire  or  stay.  Flodoardo  started  from  his 
place,  apparently  in  no  less  confusion  than 
herself,  and  relieved  her  from  her  indeci- 
sion, by  taking  her  hand  with  respect,  and 
conducting  her  to  the  seat  which  he  had 
just  quitted. 

Now^  then  she  could  not  possibly  retire 

immediately,   unless  she   meant  to  violate 

every  common  principle  of  good  breeding. 

Her  hand  was  still  clasped  in  Fiodoardo's. 


ABELLIXO.  107 

But  It  was  so  natural  for  him  to  take  it  that 
she  could  not  blame  him  for  having  done 
so.  But  what  was  she  next  to  do?  Draw 
her  hand  away?  Why  should  she,  since  he 
did  her  hand  no  harm  by  keeping  it,  and 
the  keeping  it  seemed  to  make  him  so  hap- 
py? And  how  could  the  gentle  Rosabella 
resolve  to  commit  an  act  of  such  unheard 
of  cruelty,  as  wilfully  to  deprive  any  one 
of  a  pleasure  which  made  him  so  happy, 
and  which  did  herself  no  harm? 

'*Signiora,"  said  Flodoardo;  merely  for 
the  sake  of  saying  something,  "you  do  well 
to  enjoy  the  open  air;  the  evening  is  beau- 
tiful."" 

"But  I  interrupt  your  studies,  my  lord?'' 
said  Rosabella. 

*'By  no  means,''  answered  Flodoardo; 
and  there  this  interesting  conversation  came 
to  a  full  stop.  Both  looked  down;  both 
examined  the  heaven  and  the  earth,  the 
trees  and  the  flowers,  in  the  hopes  of  find- 
ing some  hints  for  renewing  the  conversa- 
tion; but  the  more  anxiously  they  sought 
them,  the  more  difficult  did  it  seem  to  find 
wJiat  they  sought:  and  in  this  painful  em- 
barrassmentdid  two  whole  precious  minutes 
elapse! 

<'Ah!  what  a  beautiful  flower!"  suddenly- 
cried  Rosabella,  in  order  to  break  the  si- 
lence;  then  stooped  and   plucked  a  violet 


1C8  ABELLINO. 

with  an  appearance  of  the  greatest  eager- 
ness; though  in  fact  nothing  at  that  moment 
could  have  been  more  a  matter  of  indiffe- 
rence. 

*'  It  is  a  very  beautiful  flower  indeed!" 
gravely  observed  Flodoardo,  and  was  out  of 
all  patience  with  himself  for  having  made 
so  flat  a  speech. 

**Nothing  can  surpass  this  purple!"  con- 
tinued Rosabella;  *'red  and  blue  so  happily 
blended,  that  no  painter  could  produce  so 
perfect  a  union!'' 

"Red  and  blue?  the  one  the  symbol  of 
happiness;  the  other  of  afi^ection.  Ah!  Ro- 
sabella, how  enviable  will  be  that  man's  lot 
on  whom  your  hand  should  bestow  such  a 
flower!  Happiness  and  afi'ection  are  more 
inseparably  united  than  the  red  and  blue 
which  purple  that  violet." 

"You  seem  to  attach  a  value  to  the  flower 
of  which  it  is  but  little  deserving." 

"Might  I  but  know  on  whom  (Rosabella 
will  one  day  bestow  what  that  flower  ex- 
presses— yet  this  is  a  subject  which  I  have 
no  right  to  discuss-  I  know  not  what  has 
happened  to  me  to-day — I  make  nothing 
but  blunders  and  mistakes.  P'orgive  my 
presumption,  lad}^;  I  will  hazard  such  for- 
w^ard  inquiries  no  more." 

He  was  silent;  Rosabella  was  silent  also. 


'abellino.  109 

All  was  calm  and  hushed,   except  in  the 
hearts  of  the  lovers. 

But  though  they  could  forbid  their  lips 
to  betray  their  hidden  affection;  though 
Rosabella's  tongue  said  not,  'Thou  art  he, 
Flodoardo,  on  whom  this  flovver  should  be 
bestowed;'  though  Flodoardo's  words  had 
not  expressed,  'Rosabella  give  me  that  vio- 
let, and  that  which  it  implies;'  yet  their 
eyes  were  not  silent.  Those  treacherous 
hiterpreters  of  secret  feelings  acknowledged 
more  to  each  other  than  their  hearts  had 
yet  acknowledged  to  tbemselves! 

Flodoardo  and  Rosabella  gazed  on  each 
other  with  looks  which  made  all  speech  un- 
necessary. Sweet,  tender,  and  enthusiastic 
was  the  smile  which  played  round  Rosa- 
bella's lips,  when  her  eyes  met  those  of  the 
youth  whom  she  had  selected  from  the  rest 
of  mankind;  and  with  mingled  emotions  of 
of  hope  and  fear  did  the  youth  study  the 
meaning  of  that  smile.  He  understood  it, 
and  his  heart  beat  brighter. 

Rosabella  trembled;  her  eyes  could  no 
longer  sustain  the  fire  of  his  glances,  and  a 
modest  blush  overspread  her  face  and  bo- 
som. 

"Rosabella!"  at  length  murmured  Flodo- 
ardo, unconsciously.  ''Flodoardo!"  sighed 
Rosabella  in  the  same  tone. 

"Give  me  that  violet,"  he  exclaimed  ea- 
10 


110  ABELLINO. 

gerly;  tlien  sank  at  her  feet,  and  in  a  tone 
of  the  most  humble  supplication  repeated — 
«0h  !  give  it  to  meV^ 

Rosabella  held  the  fiower  fast. 

''Ask  for  what  thou  wilt;  if  a  throne  can 
purchase  it,  I  will  pay  that  price,  or  perish! 
Rosabella,   give  me  that  flower." 

She  stole  one  look  at  the  handsome  sup- 
pliant, and  dared  not  hazard  a  second. 

''My  repose,  my  happiness,  my  life,  nay, 
even  my  glory  all  depend  on  the  possession 
of  that  little  flower!  Let  that  be  mine,  and 
here  I  solemnly  renounce  all  else  which  the 
world  calls  precious." 

The  flower  trembled  in  her  snowy  hands; 
her  fingers  clasped  it  less  firmly. 

"You  hear  me,  Rosabella?  1  kneel  at  your 
feet,  and  am  1  then  in  vain  a  beggar?" 

The  word  beggar  recalled  to  her  memory 
Camilla  and  her  prudent  counsels.  'What 
am  I  doing?'  she  said  to  herself;  'have  I 
forgotten  my  promise — my  resolution? Fly, 
Rosabella,  fly,  or  this  hour  makes  you  faith- 
less to  yourself  and  duty!' 

She  tore  the  flower  to  pieces,  and  threw 
it  contemptuously  on  the  ground  '*!  under- 
stand you,  Flodoardo,"  said  she;  ''and  hav- 
ing understood  you,  will  never  suffer  this 
subject  to  be  renewed.  Here  let  us  part, 
and  let  me  not  again  be  offended  by  a  simi- 
lar presumption.  Farewell!" 


ABELLINO.  Ill 

She  turned  from  him  in  disdain,  and  left 
Flodoardo  rooted  to  his  place  with  sorrow 
and  astonishment. 


112  ABELLINO. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    ASSASSIN. 

Scarcely  had  she  reached  her  chamber^ 
ere  Rosabella  repented  her  having  acted  so 
courao;eousl3^  It  was  cruel  in  her,  she 
thought,  to  have  given  him  so  harsh  an  an- 
swer! She  recollected  with  what  hopeless 
and  melancholy  looks  the  poor  thunder- 
struck youth  had  followed  her  steps  as  she 
turned  to  leave  him.  She  fancied  that  she 
saw  him  stretched  despairing  on  the  earth, 
his  hair  dishevelled,  his  eyes  fdled  with 
tears.  She  heard  him  term  her  the  murder- 
ess of  his  repose,  pray  for  death  as  his  only 
refuge,  and  she  saw  him  with  every  moment 
approach  towards  the  attainment  of  his 
prayer,  through  the  tears  which  he  shed  on 
//er  account.  Already  she  heard  those  dread- 
ful words — •' Flodoardois  no  more!"  Al- 
ready she  saw  the  sympathising  multitude 
weep  round  the  tomb  of  him,  whom  all  the 
virtuous  loved,  and  whom  the  wicked  dread- 
ed, whom  all  his  friends  adored,  and  whom 
even  his  enemies  admired. 

<'Alas!  alas!"  cried  she,  "this  was  but  a 


i,  ABELLINO.  113 

wretched  attempt  to  play  the  heroine;  al- 
ready does  my  resohition  fail  me.  Ah! 
Flodoardo,  I  meant  not  what  1  said!  I  love 
you,  love  you  now,  and  must  love  you 
always,  though  Camilla  may  chide,  and 
though  my  good  uncle  may  hate  me.'^ 

In  a  few  days  after  this  interview,  she 
iinderstoood  that  an  extraordinary  alteration 
had  taken  place  in  Flodoardo' s  manner  and 
appearance;  that  he  had  withdrawn  himself 
from  all  general  society,  and  that  when  the 
solicitations  of  his  intimate  friends  compell- 
ed him  to  appear  in  their  circle,  his  spirits 
seemed  evidently  depressed  by  the  weight 
of  an  unconquerable  melnncholy. 

This  intelligence  was  like  the  stroke  of  a 
poniard  to  the  feeling  heart  of  Rosabella. 
She  fled  for  shelter  to  the  solitude  of  her 
chamber,  there  indulged  her  feelings  with- 
out restraint,  and  lamented  with  showers  of 
repentant  tears,  her  harsh  treatment  of  Flo- 
doardo. 

The  grief  which  preyed  in  secret  on  her 
soul,  soon  undermined  her  health.  No  one 
could  relieve  her  sufferings,  for  no  one  knew 
the  cause  of  her  melancholy,  or  the  origin 
of  her  illness.  No  wonder  then  that  Rosa- 
bella's situation  at  length  excited  the  most 
bitter  anxiety  in  the  bosom  of  her  vener- 
able uncle.  No  wonder,too, thatFlodoardo 
entirely  withdrew  himself  from  a  world 
10* 


114  ABELLINO. 

which  was  become  odious  to  him,  since 
Rosabella  was  to  be  seen  in  it  no  longer; 
and  that  he  devoted  himself  in  solitude  to 
the  indulgence  of  a  passion,  which  he  had 
vainly  endeavored  to  subdue;  and  which,  in 
the  impetuosity  of  its  course,  had  already 
swallowed  up  every  other  sentiment. 

But  let  us  for  a  moment  turn  from  the 
sick  chamber  of  Rosabella,  and  visit  the 
dwelling  of  the  conspirators,  who  Avere  ad- 
vancing wnth  rapid  strides  towards  the  exe- 
cution of  their  plans;  and  who,  with  every 
hour  that  past  over  their  heads,  became 
more  numerous,  more  powerful  and  dan- 
gerous to  Andreas  and  his  beloved  republic. 

Parozzi,  Memmo,  Contarino,  and  Falieri, 
(the  chiefs  of  this  desperate  undertaking) 
now  assembled  frequently  in  the  Cardinal 
Gonzaga's  palace,  where  the  different  plans 
for  altering  the  constitution  of  Venice  were 
brought  forward  and  discussed.  But  in  all 
these  different  schemes  it  was  evident  that 
the  proposer  was  solely  actuated  by  con- 
siderations of  private  interest.  The  object 
of  one  was  to  get  free  from  the  burthen  of 
enormous  debts;  another  was  willing  to 
sacrifice  every  thing  to  gratify  his  inordi- 
nate ambition ;  the  cupidity  of  this  man  was 
excited  by  the  treasures  of  Andreas  and  his 
friends;  while /A«/  was  actuated  by  resent- 
ment of  some  fancied  offence,  a  resentment 


ABELLINO.  115 

which  could  only  be  quenched  with  the 
offender's  blood. 

These  execrable  wretches,  who  aimed  at 
nothing  less  than  the  total  overthrow  of 
Venice,  or  at  least  of  her  government,  look- 
ed towards  the  completion  of  their  extra- 
vagant hopes  with  the  greater  confidence, 
since  a  new  but  necessary  addition  to  the 
already  existing  taxes  had  put  the  Venetian 
populace  out  of  humor  with  their  rulers. 

Rich  enough  both  in  adherents  and  in 
wealth,  to  realize  their  fearful  projects;  rich 
enough  in  bold,  shrewd,  desperate  men, 
whose  minds  were  well  adapted  to  the  con- 
trivance and  execution  of  revolutionary  pro- 
jects; they  now  looked  down  with  contempt 
upon  the  good  old  Doge,  who  as  yet  dis- 
covered no  suspicion  of  the  object  of  their 
nocturnal  meetings. 

Still  did  they  not  dare  to  carry  their  pro- 
jects into  effect  till  some  principal  persons 
in  the  state  should  be  prevented  by  death 
from  throwing  obstacles  in  their  way.  For 
the  accompHshment  of  this  part  of  their  plan 
they  relied  on  the  daggers  of  the  banditti. 
Dreadful,  therefore,  was  the  sound  in  their 
ears,  when  the  bell  gave  the  signal  for  exe- 
cution, and  they  saw  their  best  founded 
hopes  expire  on  the  scaffold  which  support- 
ed the  headless  trunks  of  the  four  Bravos. 
But  if  their  consternation  was  great  at  thus 


116  ABELLINO. 

losing  the  destined  instruments  of  their  de- 
signs, how  extravagant  was  their  joy  when 
the  proud  Abellino  dared  openly  to  declare 
to  Venice,  that  he  still  inhabited  the  re- 
public, and  that  he  still  wore  a  dagger  at  the 
disposal  of  vice. 

*^  This  desperado  is  the  very  man  for  us!" 
they  exclaimed  unanimously,  and  in  rap- 
ture; and  now  their  most  ardent  wish  was 
to  enrol  Abellino  in  their  service. 

That  object  was  soon  obtained — they 
sought  the  daring  ruffian,  and  he  suffered 
himself  to  be  found.  He  visited  their  meet- 
ings, but  in  his  promises  and  demands  he 
was  equally  extravagant. 

The  first  and  most  earnest  wish  of  the 
whole  conspiracy  was  the  death  of  Conari; 
the  Procurator;  a  man  whom  the  Doge 
valued  beyond  all  others;  a  man,  whose 
eagle  eyes  made  the  conspirators  hourly 
tremble  for  their  secret,  and  whose  services 
the  Doge  had  accepted,  in  preference  to 
those  of  the  Cardinal  Gonzaga.  But  the  sum 
which  Abellino  demanded  for  the  murder 
of  this  one  man  was  enormous.  *'  Give  me 
the  reward  which  1  require,''  said  he,  '^  and 
I  promise,  on  the  word  of  a  man  of  honor, 
that  after  this  night  the  Procurator  Conari 
shall  give  you  no  further  trouble.  Exalt 
him  to  heaven,  or  imprison  him  in  hell, 
I  '11  engage  to  find  and  stab  him." 

What  could  they  do?  Abellino  was  not 


ABELLINO.  117 

a  man  to  be  easily  beat  down  in  his  de- 
mands. The  Cardinal  was  impatient  to 
attain  the  summit  of  his  wishes;  but  his 
road  lay  straight  over  Conari's  grave! 

Abellino  received  the  sum  demanded; — 
on  the  next  day  the  venerable  Conari,  the 
Doge's  best  and  dearest  friend,  the  pride 
and  safeguard  of  the  republic,  was  no  longer 
numbered  among  the  living. 

"  'T  is  a  terrfble  fellow,  this  Abellino!" 
cried  the  conspirators  when  the  news 
reached  them,  and  celebrated  the  Procura- 
tor's death  in  triumph  at  the  Cardinal's 
midnight  feast. 

The  Doge  was  almost  distracted  with 
terror  and  astonishment.  He  engaged  to 
o;ive  ten  thousand  sequins  to  any  one  who 
should  discover  by  whom  Conari  had  been 
removed  from  the  world.  A  proclamation 
to  this  effect  was  published  at  the  corner  of 
every  street  in  Venice,  and  made  known 
throughout  the  territories  of  the  republic. 
A  few  days  after  this  proclamation  had  been 
made,  the  following  paper  was  discovered 
affixed  to  the  principal  door  of  the  Vene- 
tian Signora: 

VENETIANS ! 

You  would  fain  know  the  author  of  Conari's  death  : 
to  spare  you  much  useless  trouble,  I  hereby  acknow- 
ledge that  I,  Abellino,  was  his  assassin.      Twice  did 


lis  ABELLINO. 

I  bury  my  dagger  in  his  heart,  and  then  sent  his  body 
to  feed  iishes.  The  Doge  promises  ten  thousand 
sequins  to  him  who  shall  discover  Conari's  murderer; 
and  to  him  who  shall  be  clever  enough  to  seize  him, 
Abellino  promises  twenty.  Adieu,  Signors.  I  re- 
main your  faithful  servant,  abellino. 


ABELLINO.  119 


CHx\PTER  VI. 

THE  TWO  GREATEST   MEN  IN  VENICE. 

It  must  be  superfluous  to  inform  my  read- 
ers that  all  Venice  became  furious  at  this 
new  insolence.  Within  the  memory  of 
man  had  no  one  ever  treated  with  such 
derision  the  celebrated  Venetian  police,  or 
set  the  Doge's  power  at  defiance,  with  sucfh 
proud  temerity.  This  occurrence  threw 
the  whole  city  into  confusion  :  every  one 
was  on  the  look  out ;  the  patroles  were 
doubled  ;  the  sbirri  extended  their  re- 
searches on  all  sides  ;  yet  no  one  could  see, 
or  hear,  or  discover  the  most  distant  trace 
of  Abellino. 

The  priests  in  their  prayers  strove  to 
rouse  the  slumbering  vengeance  of  heaven 
to  crush  this  insolent  ofiender  ;  the  ladies 
were  ready  to  swoon  at  the  very  name  of 
Abellino,  for  who  could  assure  them  that 
at  some  unexpected  moment  he  might  not 
pay  them  the  same  compliment  which  he 
had  paid  to  Rosabella  ?  As  for  the  old  wo- 
men, they  unanimousl}^  asserted  that  Ab- 
ellino had  sold  himself  to  the  Prince  of 
darkness,  by  whose  assistance  he  was  ena- 


120  ABELLINO. 

bled  to  sport  with  the  patience  of  all  pious 
Venetians,  and  deride  the  impotence  of  their 
just  indignation.  The  Cardinal  and  his 
associates  were  proud  of  their  terrible  con- 
federate, and  looked  forward  with  confi- 
dence to  the  triumphant  issue  of  their 
undertaking.  The  deserted  family  of  Conari 
called  down  curses  on  his  murderer's  head, 
and  wished  that  their  tears  might  be  turned 
into  a  sea  of  sulphur,  in  whose  waves  they 
might  plunge  the  monster  Abellino  ;  nor 
did  Conari's  relations  feel  more  grief  for 
his  loss  than  the  Doge  and  his  two  confi- 
dants, who  swore  never  to  rest  till  they 
had  discovered  the  lurking  place  of  the 
ruthless  assassin,  and  had  punished  his 
crimes  with  tenfold  vengeance. 

"Yet,  after  ail,"  said  Andreas  one  even- 
ing, as  he  sat  alone  in  his  private  chamber, 
*<  after  all,  it  must  be  confessed  that  this 
Abellino  is  a  singular  man.  He  who  can 
do  what  Abellino  has  done,  must  possess 
both  such  talents  and  such  courage  as,  (stood 
he  at  the  head  of  an  army)  would  enable 
him  to  conquer  half  the  world!  Would 
that  I  could  once  get  a  sight  of  him!" — 

"Look  up  then!"  roared  Abellino,  and 
clapped  the  Doge  on  the  shoulder.  An- 
dreas started  from  his  seat.  A  collossal 
figure  stood  before  him,  wrapped  in  a  dark 
mantle,   above  which   appeared  a  counte 


ABELLINO.  121 

nance  so  hideous  and   forbiddina;,  that  the 
universe  could  not  have  produced  its  equal. 

<<Who  art  thou?^^  stammered  out  the 
Doge. 

«' Thou  seest  me,  and  canst  doubt  ?  Well 
then,  I  am  Abellino,  the  good  friend  of 
your  murdered  Conari,  and  the  republic's 
most  submissive  slave.'' 

The  brave  Andreas,  who  had  never  trem- 
bled in  fight  by  land  or  by  sea,  and  for 
whom  no  danger  had  possessed  terrors  suf- 
ficient to  shake  his  undaunted  resolution, 
the  brave  Andreas  now  forgot  for  a  few  mo- 
ments his  usual  presence  of  mind.  Speech- 
less did  he  gaze  on  the  daring  assassin,  who 
stood  before  him  calm  and  haughty,  unap- 
palled  by  the  majesty  of  the  greatest  man 
in  Venice. 

Abellino  nodded  to  him  with  an  air  of 
familiar  protection,  and  graciously  conde- 
scended to  grin  upon  him  with  a  kind  of 
half  friendly  smile. 

<*  Abellino,"  said  the  Doge  at  length,  en- 
deavoring to  recollect  himself,  "thou  art 
a  fearful — a  detestable  man!" 

"Fearful!"  answered  the  Bravo;  "dost 
thou  think  me  so?  Good!  that  glads  me 
to  the  very  heart.  Detestable  ?  that  may 
be  so,  or  it  may  not.  I  confess  the  sign 
which  1  hang  out  gives  no  great  promise  of 
good  entertainment  within;  but  yet,  An- 
il 


122  ABELLINO. 

dreas,  one  thing  is  certain,  you  and  I  stand 
on  the  same  line,  for  at  this  moment  we 
are  the  two  greatest  men  in  Venice;  you 
in  your  way,  1   in  mine." 

The  Doge  couhl  not  help  smiling  at  the 
Bravo's  familiar  tone. 

*<  Nay,  nay!"  continued  Abellino;  <«  no 
smiles  of  disbelief,  if  you  please.  Allow 
me,  though  a  bravo,  to  compare  myself  to 
a  Doge;  truly  I  think  there's  no  great  pre- 
sumption in  placing  myself  on  a  level  with 
a  man  whom  I  hold  in  my  power,  and  there- 
fore is  in  fact  beneath  me." 

The  Doge  made  a  movement  as  if  he 
would  have  left  him. 

*' Not  so  fast,"  said  Abellino,  laughing 
rudely,  and  he  barred  the  Doge's  passage. 
<<  Accident  seldom  unites  in  so  small  a  space 
as  this  chamber  a  pair  of  such  great  men. 
Stay  where  you  are,  for  1  have  not  done 
with  you  yet:  we  must  have  a  little  conver- 
sation." 

^^  Hear  me,  Abellino!"  said  the  Doge, 
mustering  up  all  the  dignity  he  possessed; 
^'thou  hast  received  great  talents  from  na- 
ture, why  dost  ihou  employ  them  to  so  lit- 
tle advantage?  1  here  promise  you  on  my 
most  sacred  word,  pardon  for  the  past,  and 
protection  for  the  future,  if  you  name  to  me 
the  villain  who  bribed  you  to  assassinate 
^•onari,  abjure  your   trade,  and  accept  an 


ABELLINO.  12S 

honest  employment  in  the  service  of  the 
republic.  If  this  offer  is  rejected,  at  least 
quit  with  all  speed  the  territory  of  Venice, 
or  I  swear " 

"Ho!  ho!"  interrupted  Abellino;  "par- 
don and  protection,  say  you  ?  It  has  been 
long  since  I  thought  it  worth  my  while  to 
care  for  such  trifles.  Abellino  is  able  to 
protect  himself  without  foreign  aid;  and  as 
to  pardon,  mortals  cannot  give  absolution 
for  sins  like  mine.  On  that  day,  when  all 
men  must  give  in  the  list  of  their  ofiences, 
then  too  will  I  give  in  mine,  but  till  then, 
never!  You  would  know  the  name  of  him 
who  bribed  me  to  murder  Conari  ?  Well, 
v^rell,  you  shall  know  it — but  not  to-day. 
I  must  quit  with  all  speed  the  Venetian 
territory  ?  and  wherefore  ?  through  fear  of 
thee?  Ho!  ho!  through  fear  of  Venice  ? 
Ha!  Abellino  fears  not  Venice;  'tis  Ven- 
ice fears  Abellino!  You  would  have  me 
abjure   my   profession  ?      Well,    Andreas; 

there  is  one  condition,  which,  perhaps ' 

"Name  it,"  cried  the  Doge  eagerly, 
"will  ten  thousand  sequins  purchase  your 
departure  from  the  republic  ?" 

Abellino. — I  would  gladly  give  twice 
as  much  myself,  could  you  recall  the  insult 
of  offering  Abellino  so  miserable  a  bribe. 
No,  Andreas,  but  one  price  can  pay  me; 
give  me  your  niece  for  my  bride;  I  love 


124  ABELLINO. 

Rosabella,  the   daughter   of    Guiscard    of 
Corfu. 

Jlndreas, — Monster,  what  insolence! 

Mellino — Ho!   ho!  Patience,  patience 
good  uncle  that  is  to  be!     Will  you  accept 
my  terms  ? 

Jindreas. — Name  what  sum  can  satisfy 
you,  and  it  shall  be  yours  this  instant,  so 
you  will  only  relieve  Venice  from  your 
presence.  Though  it  should  cost  the  re- 
public a  million,  she  will  be  a  gainer,  if  her 
air  is  no  longer  poisoned  by  your  breath. 

Mellino. — Indeed  ?  Why,  in  fact,  a 
million  is  not  so  great  a  sum  ;  for  look  ye, 
Andreas,  I  have  just  sold,  for  near  half  a 
million,  the  lives  of  your  two  dear  friends, 
Manfrone  and  Lomellino.  Now  give  me 
Rosabella,  and  I  break  the  bargain. 

n^ndreas. — Miscreant!  Has  Heaven  no 
lightnings  ? 

Mellino. — You  will  not?  Mark  me! 
In  four  and  twenty  hours  shall  Manfrone 
and  Lomellino  be  food  for  fishes.  Abel- 
lino  has  said  it!     Away! 

And  with  these  words  he  drew  a  pistol 
from  under  his  cloak,  and  flashed  it  in  the 
Doge's  face.  Blinded  by  the  powder,  and 
confused  by  the  unexpected  explosion,  An- 
dreas started  back,  and  sank  bewildered  on 
a  neighboring  sofa.  He  soon  recovered 
from  his  astonishment;  he  sprang  from  his 


ABELLINO.  125 

seat  to  summon  his  guards,  and  seize  Ab- 
ellino.  But  Abellino  had  aheady  disap- 
peared. 

On  that  same  evening  were  Parozzi  and 
his  confederates  assembled  in  the  palace  of 
the  Cardinal  Gonzaga.  The  table  was 
spread  with  the  most  luxurious  profusion, 
and  they  arranged  over  their  flowing  gob- 
lets plans  for  the  republic's  ruin.  The  Car- 
dinal related  how  he  had  of  late  contrived 
to  insinuate  himself  into  the  Doge's  good 
graces,  and  had  succeeded  in  impressing 
him  with  an  opinion  that  the  chiefs  of  the 
confederacy  were  fit  men  to  hold  offices  of 
important  trust.  Contarino  boasted  that  he 
doubted  not  before  long  to  be  appointed  to 
the  vacant  Procuratorship.  Parozzi  reck- 
oned for  his  share  upon  Rosabella's  hand, 
and  the  place  of  either  Lomellino  or  Man- 
frone,  when  once  those  two  chief  obstacles 
of  his  hopes  should  be  removed.  Such  was 
the  conversation  in  which  they  were  enga- 
ged, when  the  clock  struck  twelve,  the  door 
flew  wide  open,  and  Abellino  stood  before 
them! 

"Wine  there!"  cried  he;  ^^theworkis 
done.  Manfrone  and  Lomellino  are  at 
supper  with  the  worms." 

All  sprang  from  their  seats  in  rapture 
and  astonishment. 
11 


126  ABELLINO. 

<*  And  I  have  thrown  the  Doge  himself 
into  such  a  fit  of  terror,  that  I  warrant  you 
he  will  not  recover  himself  easily.  Now 
answer;  are  you  content  with  me,  you 
blood  hounds  ?'^ 

"Next  then  for  Flodoardo!"  shouted  Pa- 
rozzi. 

"  Flodoardo!'^  muttered  Abellino  between 
his  teeth;  <'hum!  hum!  that's  not  so  easy." 


BOOK  III 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    LOVERS. 

Rosabella,  the  idol  of  Venice,  lay  on 
the  bed  of  sickness;  a  sorrow,  whose  cause 
was  carefully  concealed  from  every  one, 
undermined  her  health,  and  destroyed  the 
bloom  of  her  beauty.  She  loved  the  noble 
Flodoardo;  and  who  would  have  known 
Flodoardo,  and  not  have  loved  him?  His 
majestic  stature,  his  expressive  countenance, 
his  enthusiastic  glance,  his  whole  being  de- 
clared aloud,  <«  Flodoardo  is  nature's  favo- 
rite!" and  Rosabella  had  been  always  a  great 
admirer  of  nature. 

But  if  Rosabella  was  ill,  Flodoardo  was 
scarcely  better.  He  confined  himself  to  his 
own  apartment;  he  shunned  society,  and 
frequently  made  long  journeys  to  diflferent 
cities  of  the  republic,  in  hopes  of  distracting 
his  thoughts  by  change  of  place  from  that 
object  which,  wherever  he  went,  still  pur- 
sued him.  He  had  now  been  absent  for 
three  whole  weeks.  No  one  knew  in  what 
quarter  he  was  wandering;  and  it  was  dur- 
ing this  absence  that  the  so  long  expected 
Prince  of  Monaldeschi  arrived  at  Venice, 
to  claim  Rosabella  as  his  bride. 


130  ABELLINO. 

His  appearance,  to  which  a  month  before 
Andreas  looked  forward  with  such  pleasinoj 
expectation,  now  aflbrded  but  little  satis- 
faction to  the  Doge.  Rosabella  was  too  ill 
to  receive  her  suitor's  visits,  and  he  did  not 
allow  her  much  time  to  recover  her  health; 
for  six  days  after  his  arrival  at  Venice,  the 
Prince  was  found  murdered  in  a  retired  part 
of  one  of  the  public  o;ardens.  His  sword 
lay  by  him  unsheathed  and  bloody;  his  ta- 
blets were  gone,  but  one  leaf  had  been  torn 
from  them,  and  fastened  on  his  breast.  It 
was  examined,  and  found  to  contain  the  fol- 
lowing lines,  apparently  written  in  blood: 

Let  no  one  pretend  to  Rosabella's  hand,  who  is  not 
prepared  to  share  the  fate  of  Monaldeschi ! 

The  Bravo,  abellino. 

<<  Oh!  where  shall  I  now  fly  for  comfort, 
for  protection?''  exclaimed  the  Doge  in  des- 
pair, when  this  dreadful  news  was  announ- 
ced;  '*  why,  why  is  Flodoardo  absent?" 

Anxiously  did  he  now  desire  the  youth's 
return,  to  support  him  under  the  weight  of 
these  heavy  misfortunes;  nor  was  it  long 
before  that  desire  was  gratified;  Flodoardo 
returned. 

<«Welcome,  noble  youth  I"  said  the  Doge, 
when  he  saw  the  Florentine  enter  his  apart- 
ment; <«you  must  not  in  future  deprive  me 
of  your  presence  for  so  long.     I  am  notv  a 


ABELLINO.  131 

poor,  forsaken  old  man.     You  have  heard 
that  Lomellino — that  Manfrone — " 

**  I  know  all,"  answered  Flodoardo  with 
a  melancholy  air. 

"  Satan  has  burst  his  chains,  and  now  in- 
habits Venice  under  the  name  of  Abellino, 
robbing  me  of  all  that  my  soul  holds  pre- 
cious. Flodoardo,  for  heaven's  love,  be 
cautious;  often,  during  your  absence,  have  I 
trembled  lest  the  miscreant's  dagger  should 
have  deprived  me  of  you.  I  have  much 
to  say  to  you,  my  young  friend,  but  I  must 
defer  it  till  the  evening;  a  foreigner  of  con 
sequence  has  appointed  this  hour  for  an 
audience,  and  I  must  hasten  to  receive  him. 
But  in  the  evening — " 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  appearance  of 
Rosabella,  who  with  tottering  steps  and  pale 
cheeks,  advanced  slowly  into  the  apart- 
ment. She  saw  Flodoardo,  and  a  f;^int 
blush  overspread  her  countenance.  Flodo- 
ardo rose  from  his  seat,  and  welcomed  her 
with  an  air  of  distant  respect. 

*<  Do  not  go  yet,"  said  the  Doge;  '^per- 
haps in  half  an  hour  I  may  be  at  liberty.  In 
the  mean  while  I  leave  you  to  entertain  my 
poor  Rosabella;  she  has  been  very  ill  during 
your  absence,  and  I  am  still  uneasy  about 
her  health.  She  kept  her  bed  till  yesterday, 
and  truly  I  think  she  has  left  it  too  soon." 
The  venerable  Doge  quitted  the   apart- 


132  ABELLINO. 

ment,  and  the  lovers  once  more  found  them- 
selves alone.  Rosabella  drew  near  the 
window;  Flodoardo  at  length  ventured  to 
approach  it  also. 

<'  Signora,"  said  he,  "  are  you  still  angry 
with  me?" 

"I  am  not  angry  with  you,"  stammered 
out  Rosabella,  and  blushed  as  she  recollect- 
ed the  garden  scene. 

"  And  you  have  quite  forgotten  my  trans- 
gression?" 

<'Your  transgression?"  repeated  Rosa- 
bella with  a  faint  smile;  '^yes,  if  it  was  a 
transgression,  I  have  quite  forgiven  it. 
Dying  people  ought  to  pardon  those  who 
have  trespassed  against  them,  in  order  that 
they  in  their  turn  may  be  pardoned  their 
trespasses  against  heaven;  and  /am  dying; 
I  feel  it!" 

'<  Signora!" 

<< Nay, 'tis  past  a  doubt.  It  is  true  I 
have  quitted  my  sick  bed  since  yesterday; 
but  I  know  well  that  I  am  soon  to  return  to 
it,  never  to  leave  it  more.  And  therefore — 
therefore  I  now  ask  your  pardon,  Signor, 
for  the  vexation  which  I  was  obliged  to 
cause  you  the  last  time  we  met." 

Flodoardo  replied  not. 

»«  Will  you  not  forgive  me?  You  must  be 
very  difficult  to  appease — very  revengful!" 

Flodoardo  fixed  his  eyes  on  her  counte- 


ABELLINO.  133 

nance  with  a  melancholy  smile — Rosabella 
extended  her  hand  towards  him. 

<<  Will    vou    refuse   my    offered    hand? 
Shall  all  be'forgotten?" 

*' Forgotten,  lady?  neverl  never!  Every 
word  and  look  of  yours  is  stamped  on  my 
memory,  never  to  be  effiiced.  I  cannot 
forget  a  transaction  in  which  you  bore  a 
part;  I  cannot  forget  the  scene  that  passed 
between  us — every  circumstance  is  too  pre- 
cious and  sacred.  As  to  pardon — "  He 
took  her  extended  hand,  and  pressed  it  re- 
spectfully to  his  lips.  "  1  would  to  heaven, 
dear  lady,  that  you  had  in  truth  injured  me 
much,  that  I  might  have  much  to  forgive 
you.  Alas!  I  have  at  present  nothing  to 
pardon." 

Both  were  now  silent;  at  length  Rosa- 
bella resumed  the  conversation  by  saying; — 
''  You  have  made  a  long  absence  from 
Venice;  did  you  travel  far?" 

<'I  did." 

''  And  received  much  pleasure  from  your 
journey?" 

<'  Much;  for  every  where  I  heard  the 
praise  of  Rosabella." 

*«  Count  Flodoardo!"  she  interrupted 
him  with  a  look  of  reprehension,  but  in  a 
gentle  voice,  *'  would  you  again  offend 
me?" 

*'  That  will  be  soon  out  of  my  power. 
12 


134  ABELLINO. 

Perhaps  you  can  guess  what  are  my  present 
intentions." 

<<  To  resume  your  travels  soon?" 

''Exactly  so;  and  the  next  time  that  I 
quit  Venice,  to  return  to  it  no  more." 

"^o  more!"  she  repeated  eagerly;  "  Oh! 
not  so,  Flodoardo!  Ah!  can  you  leave 
me!" — She  stopped,  ashamed  of  her  im- 
prudence.— Can  you  leave  my  uncle,  I 
meant  to  say?  You  do  but  jest,  I  doubt 
not." 

"By  my  honor,  lady,  I  never  was  more 
in  earnest.''^ 

"  And  whither  then  do  you  mean  to  go?" 

"To  Malta,  and  assist  the  knights  in  their 
attack  upon  the  corsairs  of  Barbary.  Provi- 
dence perhaps  may  enable  me  to  obtain  the 
command  of  a  galley;  then  will  I  call  my 
vessel  'Rosabella;'  then  shall  the  war-cry 
be  still  Rosabella;  that  name  will  render 
me  invincible!'' 

"  Oh,  this  is  mockery,  Count:  I  have 
not  deserved  that  you  should  sport  with  my 
feelings  so  cruelly." 

"  It  is  to  spare  your  feelings,  Signora, 
that  I  am  now  resolved  to  fly  from  Venice; 
my  presence  might  cause  you  some  uneasy 
moments;  I  am  not  the  happy  man  whose 
sight  is  destined  to  give  you  pleasure;  I 
will  at  least  av^oid  giving  you  pain!" 

"And  you  really  can  resolve  to  abandon 


ABELLINO.  135 

the  Dosje,  whose  esteem  for  you  is  so  sin- 
cere, whose  friendship  has  always  been  so 
warm? 

*«  I  value  his  friendship  highly;  but  it  is 
not  sufficient  to  make  me  happy  ;  and  could 
he  lay  kingdoms  at  my  feet,  still  would  his 
friendship  be  insufficient  to  make  me 
happy/' 

"Does  then  your  happiness  require  so 
much?" 

"It  does;  much  more  than  I  have  men- 
tioned, infinitely  more!  But  one  boon  can 
make  me  happy — I  have  begged  for  it  on 
my  knees."  He  caught  her  hand,  and 
prest  it  eagerly  to  his  lips — "  I  have  begged 
for  it,  Rosabella, — and  my  suit  has  been 
rejected !" 

'^  You  are  a  strange  enthusiast!"  she  said 
\vith  difficulty,  and  scarcely  knew  what  she 
said;  while  Flodoardo  drew  her  gently 
nearer  to  him,  and  murmured  in  a  suppli- 
cating voice,  "Rosabella!" 

"  What  would  you  of  me?" 

"  My  happiness." 

She  gazed  upon  him  for  a  moment  un- 
decided, then  hastily  drew  away  her  hand, 
and  exclaimed,  "Leave  me  this  moment,  I 
command  you!  Leave  me  for  heaven's 
sake!" 

Flodoardo  clasped  his  hands  together  in 
despair  and  anguish — he  bowed  his  head  in 


136  ABELLINO. 

token  of  obedience;  he  left  her  with  slow 
steps  and  a  melancholy  air,  and  as  he  passed 
the  threshold,  turned  to  bid  her  farewell 
forever.  Suddenly  she  rushed  towards  him, 
caught  his  hand,  and  pressed  it  to  her  heart, 
"Flodoardo!"  she  cried,  **I  am  thine!'^ 
and  sank  motionless  at  his  feet. 


ABELLINO.  1,37 


CHAPTER  IL 

A    DANGEROUS    PROMISE. 

And  now  who  was  so  blest  as  the  fortu- 
nate Flodoardo?  The  victory  was  his  own; 
he  had  heard  the  wished-for  sentence  pro- 
nounced by  the  lips  of  Rosabella.  He  raised 
her  from  the  ground,  and  placed  her  on  a 
sofa.  Her  blue  eyes  soon  unclosed  of  them- 
selves once  more,  and  the  first  object  which 
they  beheld  was  Flodoardo  kneelino;  at  her 
feet,  while  with  one  arm  he  encircled  her 
waist.  Her  head  sank  upon  the  shoulder 
of  the  man  for  whom  she  had  wept  so  many 
tears,  for  whom  she  had  breathed  so  many 
sighs,  who  had  occupied  so  many  of  her 
thoughts  by  day,  who  had  been  present  in 
so  many  of  her  dreams  by  night. 

As  they  gazed  in  silent  rapture  on  each 
other,  they  forgot  that  they  were  mortals: 
they  seemed  transported  to  a  happier,  a  bet- 
ter world :  Rosabella  thought  that  the  cham- 
ber in  which  she  sat  was  transformed  into 
an  earthly  paradise:  invisible  seraphs  seem- 
ed to  hallow  by  their  protecting  presence 
the  indulgence  of  her  innocent  affection, 
and  she  poured  forth  her  secret  thanks  to 
12* 


138  ABELLINO. 

Him  who  had  given  her  a  heart  susceptible 
of  love. 

Throuo;h  the  whole  course  of  man's  ex- 
istence  such  a  moment  as  this  occurs  but 
once.  Happy  is  he,  who,  when  it  arrives 
has  a  soul  worthy  of  his  enjoyment;  happy 
is  he  who  sighs  for  its  arrival;  happy  is 
even  he  for  whom  that  moment  has  long 
been  past,  so  it  past  not  unenjoyed,  for  the 
recollection  of  it  still  is  precious.  Sage 
philosophers,  in  vain  do  you  assure  us  that 
the  raptures  of  a  moment  like  this  are  mere 
illusions  of  a  heated  imagination,  scarcely 
more  solid  than  an  enchantingdream,  which 
fades  before  the  sunbeams  of  truth  and  rea- 
son. Alas!  does  there  exist  a  happiness 
under  the  moon  which  owes  not  its  charms, 
in  some  degree,  to  the  magic  of  imagina- 
tion? 

"You  are  dear  to  me,  Flodoardo!''  mur- 
mured Rosabella,  for  Camilla  and  her  coun- 
sels were  quite  forgotten ;  *^  Oh,  you  are 
very  dear!'' 

The  youth  only  thanked  her  by  clasping 
her  still  closer  to  his  bosom,  while,  for  the 
first  time,  he  sealed  her  coral  lips  with  his. 

At  that  moment  the  door  was  suddenly 
thrown  open;  the  Doge  Andreas  re-entered 
the  apartment;  the  expected  stranger  had 
been  suddenly  taken  ill,  and  Andreas  was 
no  sooner  at  liberty  than  he  hastened  to  re- 


ABELLINO.  139 

join  his  favorite.  The  rustling  of  his  gar- 
ments roused  the  lovers  from  their  dream 
of  bliss.  Rosabella  started  from  Flodoar- 
do's  embrace  with  a  cry  of  terror;  Flodo- 
ardo  quitted  his  kneeling  posture,  yet 
seemed  by  no  means  disconcerted  at  the 
discovery. 

Andreas  gazed  on  them  for  some  minutes 
with  a  look  which  expressed  at  once  anger, 
melancholy,  and  the  most  heart-felt  disap- 
pointment. He  sighed  deeply,  cast  his  eyes 
towards  heaven,  and  in  silence  turned  to 
leave  the  apartment. 

'^  Stay  yet  one  moment,  noble  Andreas," 
cried  the  Florentine. 

The  Doge  turned,  and  Flodoardo  threw 
himself  at  his  feet.  Andreas  looked  down 
with  calm  and  serious  dignity  on  the  kneel- 
ing offender,  by  whom  his  friendship  had 
been  so  unworthily  rewarded,  and  by  whom 
his  confidence  had  been  so  cruelly  betrayed. 
"Young  man,"  said  he,  in  a  stern  voice, 
<'  the  attempt  to  excuse  yourself  must  be 
fruitless." 

"Excuse  myself!"  interrupted  Flodo- 
ardo boldly :  "  no  my  lord,  I  need  no  excuse 
for  loving  Rosabella — 't  were  for  him  to  ex- 
cuse himself  who  had  seen  Rosabella,  and 
not  loved  her.  Yet  if  indeed  it  is  a  crime 
in  me  that  I  adore  Rosabella,  it  is  a  crime 
of  which   heaven  itself  will  absolve  me. 


140  ABELLINO. 

since  it  formed  Rosabella  so  worthy  to  be 
adored!" 

*'  You  seem  to  lay  much  stress  on  this 
fantastic  apology,"  answered  the  Doge  con- 
temptuously; '*  at  least  you  cannot  expect 
that  it  should  have  much  weight  with  me.'' 

'^I  say  it  once  more  my  lord,"  resumed 
Flodoardo,  while  he  rose  from  the  ground, 
*'  that  I  intend  to  make  no  apology.  I 
mean  not  to  excuse  my  love  for  Rosabella, 
but  to  request  your  approbation  of  that  love: 
Andreas,  I  adore  your  niece;  1  demand  her 
for  my  bride!" 

The  Doge  started  in  astonishment  at  this 
bold  and  unexpected  request. 

«'Itis  true,"  continued  the  Florentine, 
<<  I  am  no  more  than  a  needy,  unknown 
youth,  and  it  seems  a  piece  of  strange  teme- 
rity when  such  a  man  proposes  himself  to 
espouse  the  heiress  of  the  Venitian  Doge. 
But,  by  heaven,  I  am  confident  that  the  great 
Andreas  means  not  to  bestow  his  Rosa- 
bella on  one  of  those  whose  claims  to  fivor 
are  overflowing  coffers,  extensive  territo- 
ries, and  sounding  titles,  or  who  vainly 
decorate  their  insignificance  with  the  glory 
obtained  by  their  ancestors  ;  glory  of  which 
they  are  themselves  incapable  of  acquiring 
a  single  ray.  I  acknowledge  freely  that  I 
have  as  yet  performed  no  actions  which 
make  me  'deserving:  such  a  reward  as  Rosa- 


ABELLINO.  141 

bella  ;  but  it  shall  not  be  long  ere  I  will  per- 
form such  actions,  or  perish  in  the  attempt." 

The  Doge  turned  from  him  with  a  look 
of  displeasure. 

"  0  be  not  incensed  with  him  dear  uncle  !" 
said  Rosabella  :  she  hastened  to  detain  the 
Doge,  threw  her  white  arms  round  his  neck 
fondly,  and  concealed  in  his  bosom  the  tears 
with  which  her  countenance  was  bedewed. 

"  Make  your  demands !"  continued  Flodo- 
ardo,  still  addressing  himself  to  the  Doge ; 
"  say  what  you  wish  me  to  do,  and  what  3^ou 
would  have  me  become,  in  order  to  obtain 
from  you  the  hand  of  Rosabella.  Ask  what 
you  will,  I  will  look  on  the  task,  however 
difficult,  as  nothing  more  than  sport  and 
pastime.  By  heaven,  I  would  that  Venice 
were  at  this  moment  exposed  to  the  most  im- 
minent danger,  and  that  ten  thousand  dag- 
gers were  unsheathed  against  your  life  ;  Rosa- 
bella my  reward,  how  certain  should  I  be  to 
rescue  Venice,  and  strike  the  ten  thousand 
daggers  down." 

''  I  have  served  the  republic  faithfully 
and  fervently  for  many  a  long  year,"  an- 
swered Andreas  with  a  bitter  smile  ;  ^'I  have 
risqued  my  life  without  hesitation ;  I  have 
shed  my  blood  with  profusion !  I  asked 
nothing  for  my  reward  but  to  pass  my  old 
age  in  soft  tranquility,  and  of  this  reward 
have  I  been  cheated.  My  bosom-friends,  the 


142  ABELLINO. 

companions  of  my  youth,  the  confidants  of 
my  age,  have  been  torn  from  me  by  the 
daggers  of  banditti — and  you,  Flodoardo, 
you  on  whom  I  heaped  all  favors,  have  now 
deprived  me  of  this,  my  only  last  remaining 
comfort.  Answer  me,  Rosabella  ;  hast  thou 
in  truth  bestowed  thy  heart  on  Flodoardo 
irrevocably  V 

One  hand  of  Rosabella's  still  rested  on 
her  uncle's  shoulder  ;  with  the  other  she 
clasped  Flodoardo's,  and  pressed  it  fondly 
against  her  heart — yet  Flodoardo  seemed 
still  unsatisfied.  No  sooner  had  the  Doge's 
question  struck  his  ear,  than  his  countenance 
became  dejected  ;  and  though  his  hand  re- 
turned the  pressure  of  Rosabella's,  he  shook 
his  head  mournfully,  with  an  air  of  doubt, 
and  cast  upon  her  a  penetrating  look,  as 
he  would  have  read  her  inmost  soul. 

Andreas  withdrew  himself  gently  from 
Rosabella's  arms,  and  for  some  time  paced 
the  apartment  slowly,  with  a  countenance 
sad  and  earnest.  Rosabella  sank  upon  a 
sofa  which  stood  near  her,  and  wept.  Flo- 
doardo eyed  the  Doge,  and  waited  for  his 
decision  with  impatience. 

Thus  passed  some  minutes.  An  awful 
silence  reigned  through  the  chamber: — An- 
dreas seemed  to  be  laborins;  with  some  re- 
solution  of  dreadful  importance.  The  lovers 
wished,  yet  dreaded,  the  conclusion  of  the 


ABELLINO.  143 

scene,  and  with  every  moment  their  anxiety- 
became  more  painful. 

<' Flodoardo,'*  at  length  said  the  Doge, 
and  suddenly  stood  still  in  the  middle  of 
the  chamber.  Flodoardo  advanced  with  a 
respectful  air;  <'  Young  man,"  he  continued, 
<'  I  am  at  length  resolved;  Rosabella  loves 
you,  nor  will  I  oppose  the  decision  of  her 
heart — but  Rosabella  is  much  too  precious 
to  admit  of  my  bestowing  her  on  the  first 
who  thinks  fit  to  demand  her — the  man  to 
whom  I  give  her,  must  be  worthy  such  a 
gift:  she  must  be  the  reward  of  his  services; 
nor  can  he  do  services  so  great  that  such  a 
reward  will  not  overpay  them.  Your  claims 
on  the  republic's  gratitude  are  as  yet  but 
trifling;  an  opportunity  now  offers  of  ren- 
dering us  an  essential  service — the  murderer 
of  Conari,  Manfrone,  and  Lomellino — go, 
bring  him  hither!  Alive  or  dead,  thou  must 
bring  to  this  palace  the  terrible  banditti 
king,  Abeliinol'^ 

At  this  unexpected  conclusion  of  a  speech 
on  which  his  happiness  or  despair  depend- 
ed, Flodoardo  started  back ;  the  color  fled 
from  his  cheeks. 

'•  My  noble  lord,"  he  said  at  length  hesi- 
tating, ''you  know  well  that " 

'•'  1  know  well,"  interrupted  Andreas, 
''  how  difficult  a  task  1  enjoin,  when  1  re- 
quire the  deliver}^  of  Abellino.        For  my- 


144  ABELLINO. 

self  I  swear,  that  1  had  rather  a  tliousand 
times  force  my  passage  with  a  single  vessel 
through  the  whole  Turkish  fleet,  and  carry 
off  the  Admiral's  ship  from  the  midst  of 
them,  than  attempt  to  seize  this  Abellino, 
who  seems  to  have  entered  into  a  compact 
with  Lucifer  himself;  who  is  to  be  found 
every  where,  and  no  where;  whom  so  many 
have  seen,  but  whom  no  one  knows;  whose 
cautious  subtlety  has  brought  to  shame  the 
vigilance  of  our  state-inquisitors,  of  the 
College  of  Ten,  and  of  all  their  legions  of 
spies  and  sbirri;  whose  very  name  strikes 
terror  into  the  hearts  of  the  bravest  Vene- 
tians, and  from  whose  dagger  I  myself  am 
not  safe  upon  my  throne!  I  know  well, 
Flodoardo,  how  much  I  proffer — you  seem 
irresolute? — You  are  silent!  Flodoardo,  I 
have  long  watched  you  with  attention;  I 
have  discovered  in  you  marks  of  a  superior 
genius,  and  therefore  I  am  induced  to  make 
such  a  demand.  If  any  one  is  able  to  cope 
with  Abellino,  thou  art  the  man — 1  wait 
your  answer.' 

Flodoardo  paced  the  chamber  in  silence. 
Dreadful  was  the  enterprise  proposed:  woe 
to  him  should  Abellino  discover  his  pur- 
pose!— But  Rosabella  was  the  reward!  he 
cast  a  look  on  the  beloved  one,  and  resolved 
to  risk  every  thing. 

He  advanced  towards  the  Doge. 


ABELLINO.  145 

Andreas. — Now  then,  Flodoardo,  your 
resolution? 

Flodoardo. — Should  I  deliver  Abellino 
into  your  power,  do  you  solemnly  swear 
that  Hosabella  shall  be  my  bride? 

Jindrtas. — She  shall,  and  not  till  then. 

Rosabella. — Ah,  P'lodoardo,  1  fear  this 
undertaking  will  end  fatally.  Abellino  is  so 
crafty — so  dreadful — Oh!  look  well  to  your- 
self; for  should  you  meet  with  this  detested 
monster,  whose  dao;g;er — 

Flodoardo,  (interrupting  her  hastily.  J 
Oh!  silence,  Rosabella! — at  least  allow  me 
to  hope! — Noble  Andreas,  give  me  your 
hand,  and  pledge  your  princely  word,  that 
Abellino  once  in  your  power,  nothing  shall 
prevent  me  from  being  Rosabella's  hus- 
band. 

Andreas — I  swear  it:  deliver  into  my 
power,  either  alive  or  dead,  this  most  dan- 
gerous foe  of  Venice,  and  nothing  shall  pre- 
vent Rosabella  from  being  your  wife.  In 
pledge  of  which  1  here  give  you  my  princely 
hand. 

Flodoardo  grasped  the  Doge's  hand  in 
silence,  and  shook  it  thrice.  He  turned  lo 
Rosabella,  and  seemed  on  the  point  of  ad- 
dressing her,  when  he  suddenly  turned 
away,  struck  his  forehead,  and  measured 
the  apartment  with  disordered  and  unsteady 
13 


146  ABELLINO. 

steps.       The   clock   in   the   tower   of   St. 
Mark's  church  struck ^fe. 

'•Time  flies!"  cried  Flododrdo;  *'no 
more  delay  then.  In  four  and  twenty  hours 
will  I  produce  in  this  very  palace  this  dread- 
ful bravo,  Abellino." 

Andreas  shook  his  head.  "  Young  man,-' 
said  he,  "  be  less  confident  in  your  promi- 
ses; I  shall  have  more  faith  in  your  per- 
formance." 

Flodoardo^  (serious  and  firm. ) — Let 
things  terminate  as  they  may,  either  I  will 
keep  my  word,  or  never  again  cross  the 
threshold  of  your  palace.  I  have  discovered 
some  traces  of  the  miscreant,  and  1  trust 
that  I  shall  amuse  you  tomon-ow,  at  this 
place,  with  the  representation  of  a  comedy; 
but  should  it  prove  a  tragedy  instead,  God's 
will  be  done. 

Andreas. — Remember  that  too  much 
haste  is  dangerous;  rashness  will  destroy 
even  the  frail  hopes  of  success,  in  which 
you  may  reasonably  indulge  at  present. 

FlodoCirdo. — Rashness,  my  lord?  He 
who  has  lived  as  I  have  livedo  and  suffered 
what  I  have  suffered,  must  have  been  long 
since  cured  of  rashness. 

Rosabella,  (taking  his  hand.) — Yet  be 
not  too  confident  of  your  own  strength,  I 
beseech  you.     Dear  Flodoardo,  my  uncle 


ABKLLINO.  147 

loves  you,  and  his  advice  is  wise: — beware 
of  Ab:;Ilino's  dajiger! 

Flodoardo. — The  best  way  to  escape  his 
dajri^er  is  not  to  allow  him  time  to  use  ii: 
within  four  and  twenty  hours  must  the  deed 
be  done,  or  never.  Now  then,  illustrious 
prince,  1  take  my  leave  of  you  ;  to-morrow 
I  doubt  not  to  convince  you  that  nothing  is 
too  much  for  love  to  venture. 

Andreas  — Right ;  to  venture — but  to 
achieve — 

Flodoardo. — Ah!  that  must  depend 

He  paused  suddenly  ;  again  his  eyes  were 
fastened  eagerly  on  those  of  Rosabella  ;  and 
it  was  evident  that  with  every  moment  his 
uneasiness  acquired  fresh  strength.  He 
resumed  his  discourse  to  Andreas,  with  a 
movement  of  impatience. 

*' Noble  Andreas,"  said  he,  <'do  not 
make  me  dispirited ;  rather  let  me  try 
whether  I  cannot  inspire  you  with  more 
confidence  of  my  success.  I  must  tirst  re- 
quest you  to  order  a  splendid  entertainment 
to  be  prepared.  At  this  hour  in  the  after- 
noon of  to-morrow  let  me  find  all  the  prin- 
cipal persons  in  Venice,  both  men  and 
women,  assembled  in  this  chamber;  for 
should  my  hopes  be  realized,  I  would  wil- 
lingly have  spectators  of  my  triumph. — 
Particularly  let  the  venerable  members  of 
the  College  of  Ten  be  invited,   in  order 


148  ABELLINO. 

that  they  may  at  last  be  brought  face  to  face 
with  this  terrible  Abellino,  against  whom 
they  have  so  long  been  engaged  in  fruitless 
warfare. 

Andreas^  (after  eyeing  him  some  time 
with  a  look  of  mingled  surprise  and  un- 
certainty. J — They  shall  be  present. 

Flodoardo. — I  understand  also,  that  since 
Conari's  death,  you  have  been  reconciled 
to  the  Cardinal  Gonzaga;  and  that  he  has 
convinced  you  how  unjust  were  the  preju- 
dices with  which  Conari  had  inspired  you 
against  ihe  nobili  Parozzi,  Contarino,  and 
the  rest  of  that  society.  During  my  late 
excursions  I  have  heard  much  in  praise  of 
these  young  men,  which  makes  me  wish  to 
show  myself  to  them  in  a  favorable  light — 
if  you  have  no  objection,  let  me  beg  you  to 
invite  them  also. 

Jlndreas. — You  shall  be  gratified. 

Flodoardo One    thing   more,    which 

had  nearly  escaped  my  memory.  Let  no 
one  know  the  motive  of  this  entertainment, 
till  the  whole  company  is  assembled.  Then 
let  o;uards  be  placed  around  the  palace,  and 
indeed  it  may  be  as  well  to  place  them  even 
before  the  doors  of  the  saloon;  for  in  truth 
this  Abellino  is  such  a  desperate  villain, 
that  too  many  precautions  cannot  be  taken 
against  him.  The  sentinels  must  have  their 
pieces  loaded;  and  above  all  things,  they 


ABELLINO.  149 

must  be  strictly  charged,  on  pain  of  death, 
to  let  every  one  enter,  but  no  one  quit  the 
chamber. 

Jindreas — All  this  shall  be  done  punc- 
tually. 

Flodoardo. — I  have  nothing  more  to  say. 
Noble  Andreas,  farewell.  Rosabella,  to- 
morrow, when  the  clock  strikes  five,  we 
shall  meet  aii;ain — or  never! 

He  said,  and  rushed  out  of  the  apartment. 
Andreas  shook  his  head;  while  Rosabella 
sunk  upon  her  uncle's  bosom,  and  wept  bit- 
terly. 


13^ 


150  ABELLINO. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  MIDNIGHT  MEETING. 

^^Victory!"  shouted  Parozzi,  as  he  rushed 
into  the  Cardinal  Gonzaga's  chamber, 
where  the  chief  conspirators  were  all  as- 
sembled; "  our  work  goes  on  bravely!  Flo- 
doardo  returned  this  morning  to  Venice, 
and  Abellino  has  already  received  the  re- 
quired sum." 

Gonzaga Flodoardo   does   not   want 

talents;  I  had  rather  he  should  live  and  join 
our  party.      He  is  seldom  oti'  his  guard. 

Parozzi. — Such  vagabonds  may  well  be 
cautious;  they  must  not  forget  themselves, 
who  have  so  much  to  conceal  from  others. 

Falieri Rosabella,  as  I  understand,  by 

no  means  sees  this  Florentine  with  unfavor- 
able eyes. 

Parozzi. — Oh  I  wait  till  to-morrow,  and 
then  he  may  make  love  to  the  devil  and  his 
grandmother,  if  he  likes.  Abellino  by  that 
time  will  have  wrung  his  neck  round,  I 
warrant  you! 

Contarino It  is  strange,  that  in  spite 

of  all   inquiries,  I   can   learn  but  little    at 


ABELLINO.  151 

Florence  respecting  this  Flodoardo.  My 
letters  inform  me  that  some  time  ago 
there  did  exist  a  family  of  that  name  ;  but 
it  has  been  long  extinct,  or  if  any  of  its  de- 
scendants are  still  in  being  at  Florence, 
their  existence  is  quite  a  secret. 

Gonzaga. — You  are  all  invited  to  the 
Doge's  to-morrow. 

Contarino. — That  is  well ;  it  seems  that 
my  recommendations  have  obtained  some 
weight  with  him,  since  his  triumvirate  has 
been  removed.  And  in  the  evening  a 
masked  ball  is  to  be  given  ;  did  not  the 
Doge's  Chamberlain  say  so? 

Falieri He  did. 

Memmo I  only  hope  there  is  no  trick 

in  all  this.  If  he  should  have  been  given 
an  hint  of  our  conspiracy — Mercy  on  us  I 
my  teeth  chatter  at  the  thought. 

Gonzaga. — Absurd!  by  what  means 
should  our  designs  have  been  made  known 
to  him?    The  thing  is  impossible. 

Memmo. — Impossible?  What!  when 
there's  scarce  a  cut-purse,  house-breaker,  or 
vagabond  in  Venice,  who  has  not  been  en- 
listed in  our  service,  would  it  be  so  strange 
if  the  Doge  discovered  a  little  of  the  busi- 
ness? A  secret  which  is  known  to  so  many, 
how  should  it  escape  his  penetration? 

Contarino. — Simpleton!  the  same  thing 
happens  to  him  which  happens  to  betrayed 


152  ABELLINO. 

husbands:  every  one  can  see  the  horns,  ex- 
cept the  man  who  carries  them.  And  yet 
I  confess  it  is  full  time  that  we  should  re- 
alize our  projects,  and  prevent  the  possibili- 
ty of  our  being  betrayed. 

Falieri. — You  are  right,  friend  ;  every 
thing  is  ready,  and  now  the  sooner  that  the 
blow  is  struck,  the  better. 

Parozzi. — Nay,  the  discontented  popu- 
lace, which  at  present  sides  with  us,  would 
be  perfectly  well  pleased  if  the  sport  began 
this  very  niglit  ;  delay  the  business  longer, 
and  their  anger  against  Andreas  will  cool, 
and  render  them  unlit  for  our  purposes. 

Contarino. — Then  let  us  decide  the 
game  at  once;  be  to-morrow  the  important 
day!  Leave  the  Doge  to  my  disposal; — 
I'll  at  least  engage  to  bury  my  poniard  in 
his  heart,  and  then  let  the  business  end  as 
it  may,  one  of  two  things  must  happen; 
either  we  shall  rescue  ourselves  from  all 
trouble  and  vexation,  by  throwing  every 
thing  into  uproar  and  confusion,  or  else  we 
shall  sail  with  a  full  wind  from  this  cursed 
world  to  another. 

Parozzi. — Mark  me,  friends;  we  must 
go  armed  to  the  Doge's  entertainment. 

Gonzaga. — All  the  members  of  the  Col- 
lege of  Ten  have  been  particularly  invited. 

Palieri.—Down  with  every  man  of  them  ! 

Memmo. — Aye,  aye!  fine  talking  I  but 


ABELLINO.  153 

suppose  it  should   turn  out  to  be  "down 
with  ourselves?'^'' 

Falieri. — Thou  white  livered  wretch  ! 
Sta\^  at  home  then  and  take  care  of  your 
worthless  existence — but  if  our  attempt 
succeeds,  come  not  to  us  to  reimburse  you 
for  the  sums  which  you  have  already  ad- 
vanced. Not  a  sequin  shall  be  paid  you 
back,  depend  on't. 

Memnio. — You  wrong  me,  Falieri;  if 
you  wish  to  prove  my  courage,  draw  your 
sword  and  measure  it  against  mine!  I  am 
as  brave  as  yourself;  but  thank  heaven,  I 
am  not  quite  so  hot-headed. 

Gonzaga. — Nay,  even  suppose  that  the 
event  should  not  answer  our  expectations; 
Andreas  once  dead,  let  the  populace  storm 
if  it  pleases;  the  protection  of  his  holiness 
will  sanction  our  proceedings. 

Memino. — The  Pope  ?  May  we  count 
on  his  protection  ? 

Gonzaga,  {throiving  him  a  letter.) — 
Read  there,  unbeliever;  the  Pope,  I  tell 
you  inust  protect  us,  since  one  of  our  ob- 
jects is  professed  to  be  the  assertion  of  the 
rights  of  St.  Peter's  chair  in  Venice.  Pr'y- 
thee,  Mem  mo,  tease  us  no  more  with  such 
doubts,  but  let  Contarino's  proposal  be 
adopted  at  once.  Our  confederates  must 
be  summoned  to  Parozzi's  palace  with  all 
diligence,   and   there   furnished   with  such 


3  54  ABELLINO. 

weapons  as  are  necessary.  Let  the  stroke 
of  rnidiiight  be  tlie  signal  for  Contarino's 
quitting  the  hall-room  and  hastening  to 
seize  the  arsenal;  Salvitia,  who  commands 
there,  is  in  our  interest,  and  will  throw 
open  the  gates  upon  the  first  summons. 

Falieri. — The  admiral  Adorno,  as  soon 
as  he  hears  the  alarm-bell,  will  immediately 
lead  his  people  to  our  assistance. 

Parozzi. — Oil!  our  success  is  certain. 

Contarino. — Only  let  us  take  care  to 
make  the  confusion  as  general  as  possible; 
our  adversaries  must  be  kept  in  the  dark 
who  are  their  friends  and  who  are  their 
foes,  and  all  but  our  own  party  must  be 
left  ignorant  as  to  the  authors,  origin,  and 
object  of  the  uproar. 

Parozzi. — By  heaven,  I  am  delighted  at 
finding  the  business  at  length  so  near  the 
moment  of  execution. 

Falieri. — Parozzi,  have  you  distributed 
the  white  ribbonds,  by  which  we  are  to  re- 
cognize our  partizans  ? 

Parozzi. — That  was  done  some  days 
ago. 

Contarino. — Then  there  is  no  more  ne- 
cessary to  be  said  on  the  subject.  Com- 
rades, fill  your  goblets!  We  will  not  meet 
again  together  till  our  work  has  been  com- 
pleted. 

Memmo. — And  yet  methinks  it  would 


ABELLIXO.  155 

not  be  unwise  to  consider  the  matter  over 
again  coolly. 

Contarino. — Psha!  consideration  and 
prudence  have  nothing  to  do  with  a  rebel- 
lion: despair  and  rashness  in  this  case  are 
better  counsellors.  The  work  once  begun, 
the  constitution  of  Venice  once  boldly 
overturned,  so  that  no  one  can  tell  who  is 
master  and  who  is  subject,  then  considera- 
tion will  be  of  service  in  instructing  us 
how  far  it  may  be  necessary  for  our  inter- 
ests to  push  the  confusion.  Come,  friends  ! 
fill,  fill,  I  say  ! — 1  cannot  help  laughing 
when  I  reflect,  that  by  giving  this  enter- 
tainment to-morrow,  the  Doge  himself 
kindly  affords  us  an  opportunity  of  execu- 
ting our  plans. 

Parozzi. — As  to  Flodoardo,  I  look  upon 
him  as  already  in  his  grave;  yet  before  we 
go  to-morrow  to  the  Doge^s,  it  will  be  as 
well  to  have  a  conference  with  Abellino. 

Contarino. — That  care  we  will  leave  to 
you,  Parozzi;  and  in  the  meanwhile,  here's 
the  health  of  Abellino  ! 

,^//.__Abellino! 

Gonzaga. — And  success  to  our  enter- 
prize  to-morrow. 

JSIemmo. — I'll  drink  that  toast  with  all 
my  heart. 

Jill. — Success  to  to-morrow's  enterprise! 

Parozzi. — The   wine    tastes    well,   aad 


156  ABELLINO. 

every  face  looks  gay.  Pass  eight-and-forty 
hours,  and  shall  we  look  as  gaily  ?  We 
separate  smiling;  shall  we  smile  when  two 
nights  hence  we  meet  again  ?     No  matter. 


ABELLIXO.  157 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    DECISIVE    DAY. 

The  next  morning  every  thing  in  Venice 
seemed  as  tranquil  as  if  nothing  more  than 
ordinary  was  on  the  point  of  taking  place; 
and  yet  since  her  first  foundation,  never  had 
a  more  important  day  rose  on  the  republic. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  ducal  palace  were 
in  motion   early.     The    impatient  Andreas 
forsook  the  couch  on  which  he  had  passed 
a  sleepless  and  anxious  night,  as  soon  as  the 
first  sunbeams  penetrated  through  the  lattice 
of  his  chamber.      Rosabella  had  employed 
the  hours  of  rest  on  dreams  of  Flodoardo, 
and  she  still  seemed  to  be  dreaming  of  him, 
even  after  sleep  was  fled.     Camilla's  love 
for  her  fair  pupil  had  broken  her    repose; 
she  loved  Rosabella  as  had  she  been  her 
daughter,  and  was  aware  that  on  this  inter- 
esting  day  depended    the   love-sick   girl's 
whole    future    happiness.     For   some  time 
Rosabella  was  unusually  gay;  she  sang  to 
her  harp  the  most  lively  airs,  and  jested  with 
Camilla  for  looking  so  serious  and  so  unea- 
sy; but  when  mid-day  approached,  her  spirits 
14 


158  ABELLINO. 

began  to  forsake  her.  She  quitted  her  in- 
strument and  paced  the  chamber  with  un- 
steady steps.  With  every  succeeding  hour 
her  heart  palpitated  with  greater  pain  and 
violence,  and  she  trembled  in  expectation  of 
the  scene  which  was  soon  to  take  place. 

The  most  illustrious  persons  in  Venice 
already  filled  her  uncle's  palace;  the  after- 
noon, so  much  dreaded  and  yet  so  much 
desired,  was  come;  and  the  Doge  now  desir- 
ed Camilla  to  conduct  his  niece  to  the  great 
saloon,  where  she  was  expected  with  impa- 
tience by  all  those  who  were  of  most  conse- 
quence in  the  republic. 

Rosabella  sank  on  her  knees  before  a  sta- 
tue of  the  Virgin.  "Blessed  Lady,"  she  ex- 
claimed with  lifted  hands,  "have  mercy  on 
me!  let  all  the  day  end  well!" 

Pale  as  death  did  she  enter  the  chamber 
in  which,  on  the  day  before,  she  had  ac- 
knowledged her  love  for  Flodoardo,  and  he 
had  sworn  to  risk  his  life  to  obtain  her. — 
Flodoardo  was  not  yet  arrived. 

The  assembly  was  brilliant,  the  conversa- 
tion was  gay.  They  talked  over  the  politics 
of  the  day,  and  discussed  the  various  occur- 
rences of  Europe.  The  Cardinal  and  Conta- 
rino  were  engaged  in  a  conference  with  the 
Doge,  while  Memrao,  Parozzi  and  Falieri, 
stood  silent  together,  and  revolved  the  pro- 


ABELLINO.  159 

jects  whose  execution  were  to  take  place  at 
midnight, 

The  weather  was  dark  and  tempestuous. 
The  wind  roared  among  the  waters  of  the 
canal,  and  the  vanes  of  the  palace-towers 
creaked  shrilly  and  discordantly.  One  storm 
of  rain  followed  hard  upon  another, 
ii  The  clock  struck  four.  The  cheeks  of  Ro- 
sabella, if  possible,  became  paler  than  before. 
Andreas  whispered  somewhat  to  his  cham- 
berlain. In  a  few  minutes  the  tread  of  armed 
men  seemed  approaching  the  door  of  the  sa- 
loon, and  soon  after  the  clattering  of  weapons 
was  heard. 

Instantly  a  sudden  sihnce  reigned  through 
the  whole  assembly.  The  young  courtiers 
broke  off  their  love-speeches  abruptly,  and 
the  ladies  stopped  in  their  criticisms  upon 
the  last  new  fashions.  The  statesman  drop- 
ped their  political  discussions,  and  gazed  on 
each  other  in  silence  and  anxiety. 

The  Doge  advanced  slowly  into  the  midst 
of  the  assembly.  Every  eye  was  fixed  up- 
on him.  The  hearts  of  the  conspirators  beat 
painfully. 

"Be  not  surprised,  my  friends,"  said  An- 
dreas, "at  these  unusual  precautions;  they 
relate  to  nothing  which  need  interfere  with 
the  pleasures  of  this  society.  You  have  all 
heard  but  too  much  of  the  Bravo  Abellino, 
the  murderer  of  the  procurator  Conari,  and 


160  ABELLINO. 

of  my  faithful  counsellors  Manfrone  and  Lo- 
mellino,  and  to  whose  dagger  my  illustrious 
guest,  the  prince  of  Monaldeschi,  has  but 
lately  fallen  a  victim.  The  miscreant,  the 
object  of  aversion  to  every  honest  man  in 
Venice,  to  whom  nothing  is  sacred  or  vene- 
rable, and  who  has  hitherto  set  at  defiance 
the  whole  vengeance  of  the  republic — before 
another  hour  expires,  perhaps  this  outcast 
of  hell  may  stand  before  you  in  this  very 
saloon. 

All,  («5ifo7?w/ie6^.)— Abellino?— What!  the 
bravo  Abellino? 

Gonzago. — Of  his  own  accord? 

Andreas. — No;  not  of  his  own  accord,  in 
truth;  but  Flodoardo  of  Florence  has  un- 
dertaken to  render  this  important  service  to 
the  republic,  to  seize  Abellino,  cost  what  it 
may,  and  conduct  him  hither  at  the  risk  of 
his  life. 

A  Sznator. — The  engagement  will  be  dif- 
ficult to  fulfil.  I  doubt  much  Flodoardo's 
keeping  his  promise. 

Another. — But  if  he  should  perform  it,  the 
obUgation  which  Flodoardo  will  lay  upon 
the  republic  will  not  be  trifling. 

A  Third — Nay,  we  shall  all  be  his  debt- 
ors, nor  do  I  know  how  we  can  reward  Flo- 
doardo for  so  important  a  service. 

Andreas. — Be  that  my  task.  Flodoardo 
has  demanded  my  niece  in  marriage;  if  he 


ABELLINO.  161 

performs  his  promise,  Rosabella  shall  be  his 
reward. 

All  gazed  on  each  other  in  silence,  some 
with  looks  expressing  the  most  heart-felt 
satisfaction,  and  others  with  glances  of  envy 
and  surprise. 

Falieri,  [in  a  low  voice.) — Parozzi,  how 
will  this  end? 

Memmo. — As  I  live,  the  very  idea  makes 
me  shake  as  if  I  had  a  fever. 

Parozzi.^  (smiling  contemptuously.) — It  is 
very  likely  that  Abellino  should  suffer  him- 
self to  be  caught! 

Contarino. — Pray  inform  me,  Signiors, 
have  any  of  you  ever  met  this  Abellino  face 
to  face? 

Several  J\^oblemen  at  once. — Not  I!  never! 

A  Senator.  — He  is  a  kind  of  spectre,  who 
only  appears  now  and  then,  when  he  is  least 
expected  and  desired. 

Rosabella. — I  saw  him  once — never  shall 
I  forget  the  monster! 

Andreas. — And  my  interview  with  him  is 
too  well  known  to  make  it  needful  forme  to 
relate  it. 

Memmo. — I  have  heard  a  thousand  stories 
about  this  miscreant,  the  one  more  wonder- 
ful than  the  other;  and  for  my  own  part,  I 
verily  believe  that  he  is  Satan  himself  in  a 
human  form.  I  must  say,  that  I  think  it 
would  be  wiser  not  to  let  him  be  brought  in 
14* 


162  ABELLINO. 

among  us,  for  he  is  capable  of  strangling  us 
all  as  we  stand  here,  one  after  another,  with- 
out mercy. 

''Gracious  heaven!"  screamed  several 
of  the  ladies;  ''you  don't  say  so  ?  What! 
strangle  us  in  this  very  chamber?" 

Coiitarino. — The  principal  point  is  whe- 
ther Flodoardo  will  get  the  better  of  him, 
or  he  of  Flodoardo:  now  I  would  lay  a 
heavy  wager,  that  the  Florentine  will  return 
without  having  finished  the  business. 

Jl  Senator — And  1  would  engage  on 
the  contrary,  that  there  is  but  one  man  in 
Venice  who  is  capable  of  seizing  Abellino, 
and  that  man  is  Flodoardo  of  Florence. 
The  moment  that  I  became  acquainted  with 
him,  I  prophesied  that  one  day  or  other  he 
would  play  a  brilliant  part  in  the  annals  of 
history. 

*/Inother  Senato7\ — I  think  with  you, 
signor:  never  was  I  so  much  struck  with  a 
man  at  first  sight,  as  I  was  with  Flodoardo. 
Contarino. — A  thousand  sequins  on 
Abellino's  not  being  taken — unless  death 
should  have  taken  him  first. 

The  first  Senator. — A  thousand  sequins 
on  Flodoardo's  seizing  him — 

Andreas. — And  delivering  him  up  to 
me,  either  alive  or  dead. 

Contarino. — Illustrious  Signers,  you  are 


ABELLINO.  163 

witnesses  of  the  wager. — My  Lord  Vital ba, 
there  is  my  hand  on  it — a  thousand  sequins! 

The  Senator, — Done! 

Contarino,  (Smiling. ) — Many  thanks 
for  your  gold,  sip;nor:  1  look  on  it  as  already 
in  my  purse.  Flodoardo  is  a  clever  gentle- 
man, no  doubt;  yet  I  would  advise  him  to 
take  good  care  of  himself,  for  he  will  find 
that  Abellino  knows  a  trick  or  two,  or  I 
am  much  mistaken. 

Gonzaga. — May  I  request  your  high- 
ness to  inform  me,  whether  Flodoardo  is 
attended  by  the  sbirri  ? 

*dndreas. — No,  he  is  alone;  near  four 
and  twenty  hours  have  elapsed  since  he  set 
out  in  pursuit  of  the  Bravo. 

Gonzaga,  (to  Co7itarino,  with  a  smile 
of  triumjih.) — I  wish  you  joy  with  your 
thousand  sequins,  signor. 

Contarino,  C bowing  respectfully. ) — 
Since  your  Excellency  prophesies  it,  I  can 
no  longer  doubt  my  success. 

Memmo. — I  begin  to  recover  myself! 
Well,  well!     Let  us  see  the  end. 

Three  and  twenty  hours  had  elapsed  since 
Flodoardo  had  entered  into  his  rash  engage- 
ment— the  four  and  twentieth  now  hastened 
to  its  completion;  and  yet  Flodoardo  came 
not. 


164  ABELLINO. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    CLOCK    STRIKES    FIVE ! 

The  Doge  became  uneasy.  The  Senator 
Vitalba  began  to  tremble  for  his  thousand 
sequins,  and  the  conspirators  could  not  re- 
strain their  spiteful  laughter  when  Conta- 
rino  gravely  declared  that  he  would  gladly 
lose  not  one  thousand  sequins,  but  twenty, 
if  the  loss  of  his  wager  through  Abellino's 
being  captured  might  but  secure  the  gene- 
ral safety  of  the  republic. 

"Hark!"  cried  Rosabella,  "the  clock 
strikes  five.'' 

All  listened  to  the  chimes  in  the  tower 
of  St.  Mark's  church,  and  trembled  as  they 
counted  the  strokes.  Had  not  Camilla  sup- 
ported her,  Rosabella  would  have  sank 
upon  the  floor.  The  destined  hour  was 
past,  and  still  Flodoardo  came  not! 

The  Venerable  Andreas  felt  a  sincere 
affection  for  the  Florentine:  he  shuddered 
as  he  dwelt  upon  the  probability  that  Abel- 
lino's  dagger  had  prevailed. 

Rosabella  advanced  towards  her  uncle  as 
if  she  would  have  spoken  to  him;  but  anx- 
iety fettered   her  tongue,  and  tears  forced 


ABELLINO.  165 

themselves  into  her  eyes.  She  strusjgled 
for  a  while  to  conceal  her  emotions,  but  the 
effort  was  too  much  for  her.  She  threw 
herself  on  a  sofa,  wrang  her  hands,  and 
prayed  to  the  God  of  mercy  for  help  and 
comfort. 

The  rest  of  the  company  either  formed 
groups  of  wdiisperers,  or  strolled  up  and 
down  the  apartment  in  evident  uneasiness. 
They  would  willingly  have  appeared  gay 
and  unconcerned,  but  they  found  it  impos- 
sible to  assume  even  an  affectation  of  gaietv; 
and  thus  elapsed  another  hour,  and  still 
Flodoardo  came  not. 

At  that  moment  the  evening  sun  broke 
through  the  clouds,  and  a  ray  of  its  setting 
glory  was  thrown  full  upon  the  countenance 
of  Rosabella.  She  started  from  the  sofa, 
extended  her  arms  towards  the  radiant  orb, 
and  exclaimed,  while  a  smile  of  hope  played 
round  her  lips,  <'God  is  mercKul!  God  will 
have  mercy  too  on  meP^ 

Contarino. — Was  it  at  five  o'clock  that 
Flodoardo  engaged  to  produce  Abellino  ? 
It  is  now  a  full  hour  beyond  his  time. 

Vitalha. — Let  him  only  produce  him 
at  last,  and  he  may  be  an  hour  beyond  his 
time,  if  he  chooses. 

*dndreas. — Hark! — No!  Silence!  surely 
I  hear  footsteps  approaching  the  saloon! 

The  words  were  scarcely  spoken  when 


166  ABELLINO. 

the  folding  doors  were  thrown  open,  and 
Flodoardo  rushed  into  the  room,  enveloped 
in  his  mantle.  His  hair  streamed  in  the  air 
in  wild  disorder;  a  deep  shade  was  thrown 
over  his  face  by  the  drooping  plumes  of  his 
barrette^  from  which  the  rain  was  flowing; 
extreme  melancholy  was  impressed  on  all 
his  features;  and  he  threw  his  gloomy  looks 
around  him,  as  he  bowed  his  head  in  salu- 
tation of  the  assembly. 

Every  one  crowded  round  him;  every 
mouth  was  unclosed  to  question  him;  every 
eye  was  fixed  on  his  face,  as  eager  to  anti- 
cipate his  answers. 

«'  Holy  Virgin !''  exclaimed  Memmo,  "  1 
am  afraid  that — " 

<<Be  silent,  Signor!"  interrupted  Con- 
tarinOj  sternly,  <' there  is  nothing  to  be 
afraid  of." 

*«  Illustrious  Venitians!"  it  was  thus  that 
Flodoardo  at  length  broke  silence,  and  he 
spoke  with  the  commanding  tone  of  a  hero; 
*'I  suppose  that  his  Highness  has  already 
made  known  to  you  the  object  of  your  being 
thus  assembled.  I  come  to  put  an  end  to 
your  anxiety;  but  first,  noble  Andreas,  I 
must  once  more  receive  the  assurance  that 
Rosabella  of  Corfu  shall  become  my  bride, 
provided  I  deliver  into  your  power  the 
Bravo  Abellino." 
1  Jindreas^  {examining  his  countenance 


ABELLINO.  167 

ivith  extreme  anxiety.) — Flodoardo,  have 
you  succeeded  ?  Is  Abellino  your  prisoner  ? 
Flodoardo. — If  Abellino  z^  my  prisoner, 
shall  Rosabella  be  my  bride  ? 

Andreas. — Bring  me  Abellino,  alive  or 
dead,  and  she  is  yours — 1  swear  it  beyond 
the  power  of  retracting,  and  swear  also  that 
her  dowry  shall   be  royal ! 

Flodoardo. — Ilhislrious  Venitians,  ye 
have  heard  the  Doge's  oath. 
%dll. — We  are  your  witnesses. 
Flodoardo^  (advancing  a  few  paces 
loith  a  bold  air,  and  speaking  with  a  firm 
voice.) — Well  then,  Abellino  is  in  my 
power — is  in  yours. 

*dll,  (in  confusion  and  a  kind  of  up- 
roar.) — In  ours?  merciful  heavens! — 
Where  is  he  ?     Abellino  ? 

•dndreas. — Is  he  dead  or  living.^ 
Flodoardo. — He  still  lives. 
Gon7Mga,  [hastily.) — He  lives.'' 
Flodoardo,   {boiving  to  the    Cardinal 
respectfully.) — He  still  lives.  Signer! 

Rosabella,  (pressing  Camilla  to  her 
bosom.) — Didst  thou  hear  that,  Camilla.'' 
Didst  thou  hear  it? — The  villain  still  lives! 
not  one  drop  of  blood  has  stained  the  inno- 
cent hand  of  Flodoardo. 

Vitalba. — Signer  Contarino,  I  have  won 
a  thousand  sequins  of  you. 

Contarino. — So  it  should  seem,  Signor ! 


168  ABELLINO. 

Jlndreas. — My  son,  you  have  bound  the 
republic  to  you  for  ever,  and  I  rejoice  that 
it  is  to  Flodoardo  that  she  is  indebted  for  a 
service  so  essential. 

Vitalha. — And  permit  me  noble  Floren- 
tine, to  thank  you  for  this  heroic  act  in  the 
name  of  the  Senate  of  Venice.  Our  first 
care  shall  be  to  seek  out  a  reward  propor- 
tioned to  your  merits. 

Flodoardo^  [extending  his  arm  toivards 
Rosabella  tvith  a  melancholy  air.) — There 
stands  the  only  reward  for  which  I  wish. 

Andreas^  {joyfully.) — And  that  reward 
is  your  own.  But  where  have  you  left  the 
blood-hound  ?  Conduct  him  hither,  my 
son,  and  let  me  look  on  him  once  more. 
When  last  I  saw  him,  he  had  the  insolence 
to  tell  me — "Doge,  1  am  your  equal:  this 
narrow  chamber  now  holds  the  two  greatest 
men  in  Venice." — Now  then  let  me  see 
how  this  other  great  man  looks  in  captivit3\ 

Two  or  three  Senato)^s. — Where  is  he? 
Bring  him  hither! 

Several  of  the  ladies  screamed  at  hearing 
this  proposal.  "  For  heaven's  sake! '^  cried 
they,  '•  keep  the  monster  away  from  us!  I 
shall  be  frightened  out  of  my  senses  if  he 
comes  here!" 

<'  Noble  ladies,"  said  Flodoardo  with  a 
smile  expressing  rather  sorrow  than  joy, 
<<you  have  nothing  to  apprehend.  Abeliino 


ABELLINO.  169 

shall  do  you  no  harm  ;  but  he  needs  must 
come  hither,  to  claim  HheBravo^s  Bride^'^  " 
and  he  pointed  at  Rosabella. 

"0,  my  best  friend!"  she  answered,  "how 
shall  I  express  my  thanks  to  you  for  having 
thus  put  an  end  to  my  terrors?  I  shall  now 
tremble  no  more  at  hearing  Abellino  named; 
Rosabella  shall  now  be  called  'the  Bravo's 
Bride'  no  longer." 

Fallen. — Is  Abellino  already  in  this  pa- 
lace? 

Flodoardo. — He  is. 

Vitalba. — Then  why  do  you  not  produce 
him? — Why  do  you  trifle  so  long  with  our 
impatience? 

Flodoardo. — Be  patient.  It  is  now  time 
that  the  play  should  begin.  Be  seated,  no- 
ble Andreas — let  all  the  rest  arrange  them- 
selves behind  the  Doge.  Abellino's  com- 
ing. 

At  that  word,  both  old  and  young,  both 
male  and  female,  with  the  rapidity  of  light- 
ning, flew  to  take  shelter  behind  Andreas. 
Every  heart  beat  anxiously;  but  as  to  the 
conspirators,  while  expecting  Abellino's  ap- 
pearance, they  suffered  the  torments  of  the 
damned. 

Grave  and  tranquil  sat  the  Doge  in   his 
chair,  like  a  judge  appointed  to  pass  sen- 
tence on  this  King  of  the    banditti.     The 
spectators  stood  around  in  various  groups, 
15 


170  ABELLINO. 

all  hushed  and  solemn  as  if  waiting  to  re- 
ceive their  final  judgment.  The  lovely 
Rosabella,  with  all  the  security  of  angels, 
whose  innocence  has  nothing  to  fear,  reclined 
her  head  on  Camilla's  shoulder;  and  gazed 
on  her  heroic  lover  with  looks  of  adoration. 
The  conspirators,  with  pallid  cheeks  and 
staring  eyes,  filled  up  the  back  ground;  and 
a  dead  and  awful  silence  prevailed  through 
the  assembly. 

*'And  now  then,"  said  Flodoardo,  "pre- 
pare yourselves — for  this  terrible  Abellino 
shall  appear  before  you!  Do  not  tremble; 
he  shall  do  no  one  harm." 

With  these  words  he  turned  away  from 
the  company,  and  advanced  towards  the 
folding  doors;  he  paused  for  a  few  moments, 
and  concealed  his  face  in  his  cloak. 

"Abellino!"  cried  he  at  length,  raising 
his  head,  and  extending  his  arm  towards 
the  door.  At  that  name  all  who  heard  it 
shuddered  involuntarily,  and  Rosabella  ad- 
vanced unconsciously  a  few  steps  towards 
her  lover.  She  trembled  at  the  Bravo's 
appearance,  yet  trembled  more  for  Flodo- 
ardo than  herself. 

"AbelHno!"  the  Florentine  repeated  in  a 
loud  and  angry  tone,  threw  from  him  his 
mantle  and  barrette,  and  had  already  laid 
his  hand  on  the  lock  of  the  door  to  open  it, 
when  Rosabella  uttered  a  cry  of  terror! — 


ABELLINO.  171 

"Stay  Flodoardo!"  she  cried,  rushing  to- 
ward him,  and — Ha!  Flodoardo  was  gone, 
and  there  in  his  place,  stood  Abelhno,  and 
shouted  out— "Ho!  ho!" 


172  ABELLINO. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

APPARITIONS. 

Instantly  a  loud  cry  of  terror  resounded 
through  the  apartment.  Rosabella  sank 
fainting  at  the  Bravo's  feet;  the  conspirators 
were  almost  suffocated  with  rage,  terror, 
and  astonishment;  the  ladies  made  signs  of 
the  cross,  and  began  in  all  haste  to  repeat 
their  paternosters;  the  senators  stood  rooted 
to  their  places  like  so  many  statues,  and  the 
Doge  doubted  the  information  of  his  ears  and 
eyes. 

Calm  and  terrible  stood  the  Bravo  before 
them,  in  all  the  pomp  of  his  strange  and 
awful  ugliness;  with  his  Bravo's  habit,  his 
girdle  filled  with  pistols  and  poniards,  his 
distorted  yellow  countenance,  his  black  and 
bushy  eye  brows,  his  lips  convulsed,  his 
right  eye  covered  by  a  large  patch,  and  his 
left  half  buried  among  the  wrinkles  of  flesh 
which  swelled  around  it.  He  gazed  round 
him  for  a  few  moments  in  silence,  and  then 
approached  the  stupified  Andreas. 

"Ho!  ho!"  he  roared  in  a  voice  like  thun- 
der, "you  wished  to  see  the  Bravo  Abelli- 


ABELLINO.  173 

no? — Doge  of  Venice,  here  he  stands,  and 
is  come  to  claim  his  bride!" 

Andreas  gazed  with  looks  of  horror  on  this 
model  for  demons,  and  at  length  stammered 
out  with  difficulty,  "It  cannot  be  real — I 
must  surely  be  the  sport  of  some  horrible 
dream!" 

"Without  there!  Guards!"  exclaimed  the 
Cardinal  Gonzaga,  and  would  have  hastened 
to  the  folding  doors;  when  Abellino  put  his 
back  against  them,  snatched  a  pistol  from 
his  girdle,  and  pointed  it  at  the  Cardinal's 
bosom. 

"The  first,"  cried  he,  "who  calls  for  the 
guard,  or  advances  one  step  from  the  place 
on  v;hich  he  stands,  expires  that  moment. 
Fools!  do  you  think  I  would  have  deliver- 
ed myself  up,  and  desired  that  guards  might 
beset  these  doors,  had  I  feared  their  swords, 
or  intended  to  escape  from  your  power? — 
No — I  am  content  to  be  your  prisoner,  but 
not  through  compulsion.  I  am  content  to 
be  your  prisoner,  and  it  was  with  that  intent 
that  I  came  hither.  No  mortal  should  have 
the  glory  of  seizing  Abellino;  if  justice  re- 
quired him  to  be  delivered  up,  it  was  neces- 
sar>  that  he  should  be  delivered  up  by  him- 
self. Or  do  you  take  Abellino  for  an  ordina- 
ry ruffian,  who  passes  his  time  in  skulking 
from  the  sbirri,  and  who  murders  for  the  sake 
of  despicable  plunder?  No,  by  heaven,  no! 
15* 


174  ABELLINO. 

Abellino  was  no  such  common  villain.  It 
is  true  I  was  a  Bravo;  but  the  motives  which 
induced  me  to  become  one  were  great  and 
striking." 

Andreas^  [clasping  his  hands  together) — Al- 
mighty God!  can  this  be  possible? 

An  awful  silence  again  reigned  through 
the  saloon.  All  trembled  while  they  lis- 
tened to  the  voice  of  the  terrible  assassin, 
who  strode  through  the  chamber,  proud 
and  majestic  as  the  monarch  of  the  infernal 
world. 

Rosabella  opened  her  eyes;  their  first  look 
fell  upon  the  Bravo.  "Oh!  God  of  mercy!" 
she  exclaimed,  "he  is  still  there! — Me- 
thought  too  that  Flodoardo — no,  no — it  could 
not  be!  I  w^as  deceived  with  witchcraft! 

Abellino  advanced  towards  her,  and  at- 
tempted to  raise  her.  She  shrunk  from  his 
touch  wuth  horror. 

"No,  Rosabella,"  said  the  Bravo  in  an 
altered  tone,  "what  you  saw  was  no  illu- 
sion. Your  favored  Flodoardo  is  no  other 
than  Abellino  the  Bravo." 

"It  is  false!"  interrupted  Rosabella,  start- 
ing from  the  ground  in  despair,  and  throw- 
ing herself  for  refuge  on  Camilla's  bosom; 
"Monster,  thou  canst  not  be  Flodoardo — 
such  a  fiend  can  never  have  been  such  a 
seraph!  Flodoardo's  actions  were  good  and 
glorious  as  a  demi-god's!   'twas  of  him  that 


ABELLINO.  175 

I  learnt  to  love  good  and  glorious  actions, 
and  it  was  he  who  encouraged  me  to  attempt 
them  myself!  His  heart  was  pure  from  all 
mean  passions,  and  capable  of  conceiving 
all  great  designs!  Never  did  he  scruple  in 
the  cause  of  virtue  to  endure  fatigue  and 
pain,  and  to  dry  up  the  tears  of  suffering 
innocence — that  w^as  Flodoardo's  proudest 
triumph !  Flodoardo  and  thou, — wretch; 
whom  many  a  bleeding  2:host  has  Ions:  since 
accused  before  the  throne  of  Heaven,  dare 
not  thou  to  profane  the  name  of  Flodoardo." 

Jibellino,  {proud  and  earnest.) — Rosabella, 
wilt  thou  forsake  me?  Wilt  thou  retract  thy 
promise?  Look,  Rosabella,  and  be  convin- 
ced; I,  the  Bravo,  and  thy  Flodoardo  are 
the  same. 

He  said,  removed  the  patch  from  his  eye, 
and  passed  a  handkerchief  over  his  face 
once  or  twice;  in  an  instant  his  complexion 
was  altered — his  bushy  eyebrows  and 
straight  black  hair  disappeared,  his  features 
were  replaced  in  their  natural  symmetry, 
and  lo!  the  handsome  Florentine  stood  before 
the  whole  assembly,  dressed  in  the  habit  of 
the  Bravo  Abellino. 

Ahellino. — Mark  me,  Rosabella!  Seven 
times  over,  and  seven  times  again,  will  I 
change  my  appearance,  even  before  your 
eyes,  and  that  so  artfully,  that,  study  me  as 
you  will,   the  transformation  shall  still  de- 


176  ABELLINO. 

ceive  you.  But  change  as  I  may,  of  one 
thing  be  assured — I  am  the  man  whom  you 
loved  as  Flodoardo. 

The  Doge  gazed  and  listened  without  be- 
ing able  to  recover  from  his  confusion;  but 
every  now  and  then  the  words,  "Dreadful! 
dreadful!"  escaped  from  his  lips,  and  he 
wrang  his  hands  in  agony.  Abellino  ap- 
proached Rosabella,  and  said  in  a  tone  of 
supplication;  "Rosabella,  wilt  thou  break 
thy  promise?  Am  I  no  longer  dear  to  thee?" 
Rosabella  was  unable  to  answer;  she  stood 
like  one  changed  to  a  statue,  and  fixed  her 
motionless  eyes  on  the  Bravo. 

Abellino  took  her  cold  hand,  and  pressed 
it  to  his  hps.  "  Rosabella,"  said  he,  "art 
thou  still  mine?" 

Rosabella. — Flodoardo — Oh!  that  I  had 
never  loved — had  never  seen  thee! 

Ahellino. — Rosabella,  wilt  thou  still  be 
the  bride  of  Flodoardo?  wilt  thou  be  'the 
Bravo's  bride?' 

Love  struggled  with  abhorrence  in  Rosa- 
bella's bosom,  and  painful  was  the  contest. 
Ahellino. — Hear  me,  beloved  one!  It 
was  for  the  that  I  have  discovered  myself 
— that  I  have  delivered  myself  into  the  hands 
of  justice!  For  thee?  Oh!  what  would  I  not 
do  for  thee? — Rosabella,  I  wait  but  to  hear 
one  syllable  from  your  lips!  speak  but  a  de- 


ABELLINO.  177 

cisive  'yes!'  or  'no!'  and  all  is  ended! — Ro- 
sabella, dost  thou  love  me  still? 

And  still  she  answered  not;  but  she  threw 
upon  him  a  look  innocent  and  tender  as  ever 
beamed  from  the  eye  of  an  angel,  and  that 
look  betrayed  but  too  plainly  that  the  mis- 
creant was  still  master  of  her  heart.  She 
turned  from  him  hastily,  threw  herself  into 
Camilla's  arms,  and  exclaimed,  "God  for- 
give you,  man,  for  torturing  me  so  cruelly!" 

The  Doge  had  by  this  time  recovered 
from  his  stupor:  he  started  from  his  chair; 
threats  flashed  from  his  eyes,  and  his  lips 
trembled  with  passion.  He  rushed  towards 
Abellino;  but  the  senators  threw  themselves 
in  his  passage,  and  held  him  back  by  force. 
In  the  mean  while  the  Bravo  advanced  to- 
wards him  with  the  most  insolent  compo- 
sure, and  requested  him  to  calm  his  agita- 
tion. "Doge  of  Venice,"  said  he,  "will  you 
keep  your  promise?  That  you  gave  it  to  me, 
these  noble  lords  and  ladies  can  testify." 

Andreas. — Monster!  miscreant! — oh!  how 
artfully  has  this  plan  been  laid  to  ensnare 
me! — Tell  me,  Venetians;  to  such  a  creditor 
am  I  obliged  to  discharge  my  fearful  debt? 
Long  has  he  been  playing  a  deceitful,  bloody 
part;  the  bravest  of  our  citizens  have  fallen 
beneath  his  dagger,  and  it  was  the  price  of 
their  blood  which  has  enabled  him  to  act  the 
nobleman  in  Venice.   Then  comes  he  to  me 


178  ABELLINO. 

in  the  disguise  of  a  man  of  honour,  seduces 
the  heart  of  my  unfortunate  Rosabella,  ob- 
tains my  promise  by  an  artful  trick,  and 
now  claims  the  maiden  for  his  bride,  in  the 
hope  that  the  husband  of  the  Doge's  niece 
will  easily  obtain  an  absolution  for  his 
crimes.  Tell  me,  Venetians,  ought  I  to  keep 
my  word  with  this  miscreant? 

Senators. — No!  no!  by  no  means! 

Abellino^  (with  solemnity.) — If  you  have 
once  pledged  your  word,  you  ought  to  keep 
it,  though  given  to  the  Prince  of  darkness. 

Oh!  fie!  fie!  Abellino,  how  shamefully 
has  thou  been  deceived  in  thy  reckoning. 
I  thought  I  had  to  do  with  men  of  honour — 
Oh!  how  grossly  have  I  been  mistaken! 
(In  a  terrible  voice,)  Once  again,  and  for  the 
last  time,  I  ask  you.  Doge  of  Venice,  wilt 
thou  break  thy  princely  w^ord? 

Andreas,  (in  a  tone  of  authority) — Give  up 
your  arms. 

Abellino. — And  you  w'ill  really  withhold 
from  me  my  just  reward?  Shall  it  be  in 
vain  that  I  delivered  Abellino  into  your 
power? 

Andreas. — It  w^as  to  the  brave  Flodoardo 
that  I  promised  Rosabella;  I  never  entered 
into  an  engagement  w^ith  the  murderer  Abel- 
lino. Let  Flodoardo  claim  my  niece,  and 
she  is  his;  but  Abellino  can  have  no  claim 
to  her.     Again  I  say,  lay  down  your  arras. 


ABELLINO.  179 

Abellino, [laughing  wildly.) — The  murder- 
er Abellino  say  you?  Ho!  ho!  Be  it  your  care 
to  keep  your  promises,  and  trouble  not  your- 
self about  my  murders — they  are  my  affair, 
and  I  warrant  I  shall  find  a  word  or  two  to 
say  in  defence  of  them  when  the  judgment 
day  arriv^es. 

Go7izaga,  [to  the  Doge.) — What  dreadful 
blasphemy! 

Abellino. — Oh!  good  lord  Cardinal,  inter- 
cede in  my  behalf.  You  know  me  well;  I 
have  ahvays  acted  by  you  like  a  man  of 
honor,  that  at  least  you  cannot  deny! — Say- 
one  word  in  my  favor  then,  good  lord  Car- 
dinal! 

Go7izaga, [angrily^  and  with  imperious  dig- 
nity.)— Address  not  thyself  to  me,  miscreant! 
What  canst  thou  and  I  have  to  do  together? 
Venerable  Andreas,  delay  no  longer;  let  the 
guards  be  called  in! 

Ahellino. — What?  Is  there  then  no  hope 
for  me?  Does  no  one  feel  compassion  for 
the  wTetched  Abellino?  What!  no  one9 — [A 
pause.) — All  are  silent? — all!  It  is  enough? 
Then  my  fate  is  decided — call  in  your 
guards! 

Rosabella,  {with  a  scream  of  agony.,  spring- 
ing forward.,  and  falling  at  the  Doge'^s  feet.) 
Mercy!  mercy! — pardon  him — pardon  Abel- 
lino! 


180  ABELLINO. 

Ahellino J  [in  rapture.) — Sayest  thou  so? — 
Ho!  ho!  then  an  angel  prays  for  Abellino  in 
his  last  moments! 

Rosabella^  (clasping  the  Doge^s  knees.) — 
Have  mercy  on  him,  my  friend!  my  father! 
He  is  a  sinner — but  leave  him  to  the  justice 
of  heaven!  He  is  a  sinner — but  oh!  Rosabel- 
la loves  him  still. 

Andreas,  {pushing  her  away  with  indigna- 
tion.)— Away,  unworthy  girl!  you  rave. 

Abellino  folded  his  arms,  gazed  wdth 
eagerness  on  "vvhat  was  passing,  and  tears 
gushed  into  his  brilliant  eyes.  Rosabella 
caught  the  Doge's  hand  as  he  turned  to 
leave  her,  kissed  it  twice,  and  said,  "If  you 
have  no  mercy  on  /«m,  then  have  none  on 
me.'  The  sentence  wdiich  you  pass  on  Abel- 
lino will  be  mine;  it  is  for  my  own  life  that 
I  plead  as  well  as  Abellino's — father!  dear 
father!  reject  not  my  suit,  but  spare  him! 

Andreas^  [in  an  angry  and  decided  tone.) — 
Abellino  dies! 

Abellino. — And  can  you  look  on  with  dry 
eyes,  w^hile  that  innocent  dove  bleeds  at 
your  feet?  Go,  barbarian;  you  never  loved 
Rosabella  as  she  deserved;  now  she  is  yours 
no  longer — she  is  mine,  she  is  Abellino's! 

He  raised  her  from  the  ground,  and  press- 
ed her  pale  lips  against  his  own. 

"Rosabella,  thou  art  mine;  death  alone 
parts  us.     Thou  lovest  me  as  I  w^ould  be 


ABELLINO.  181 

loved;  I  am  blest  whate'er  may  happen,  and 
can  now  set  fortune  at  defiance.  To  business 
then!" 

He  replaced  Rosabella,  who  was  almost 
fainting,  on  the  bosom  of  Camilla,  then  ad- 
vanced into  the  middle  of  the  chamber,  and 
addressed  the  assembly  with  an  undaunted 
air: 

"Venetians,  you  are  determined  to  deliver 
me  up  to  the  axe  of  justice!  there  is  for  me 
no  hope  of  mercy?  'Tis  well!  act  as  you 
please;  but  ere  you  sit  in  judgment  over  Twe, 
Signors,  I  shall  take  the  liberty  of  passing 
sentence  upon  some  of  you.  Now  mark  me! 
you  see  in  me  the  murderer  of  Conari!  the 
murderer  of  Paolo  Manfrone!  the  murderer 
of  Lomellino!  I  deny  it  not.  But  would  you 
know  the  illustrious  persons  who  paid  me  for 
the  use  of  my  dagger?" 

With  these  words  he  put  a  whistle  to  his 
lips,  and  sounded  it,  and  instantly  the  doors 
flew  open,  the  guards  rushed  in,  and,  ere 
they  had  time  to  recollect  themselves,  the 
chief  conspirators  were  in  custody,  and  dis- 
armed. 

"Guard  them  well!"  said  Abellino,  in  a 
terrible  voice  to  the  sentinels;  you  have  your 
orders.  Noble  Venetians,  look  on  these  vil- 
lains— it  is  to  them  that  you  are  indebted  for 
the  loss  of  your  three  noblest  citizens.  I  ac- 
cuse of  these  murders,  one,  two,  three,  four; 
16 


182  ABELLINO. 

and  my  lord  Cardinal  there  has  the  honor  to 
be  the  fifth." 

Motionless  and  bewildered  stood  .he  ac- 
cused; tale  telling  confession  spoke  in  every 
feature  that  the  charge  was  true,  and  no  one 
was  bold  enough  to  contradict  Abellino. 

"What  can  all  this  mean?"  asked  the 
senators  of  each  other  in  the  utmost  surprise 
and  confusion. 

"This  is  all  a  shameful  artifice,"  the  Car- 
dinal at  length  contrived  to  say;  "the  vil- 
lain perceiving  that  he  has  no  chance  of  es- 
caping punishment,  is  willing,  out  of  mere 
resentment,  to  involve  us  in  his  destruc- 
tion." 

Contarino,  [recovering;  himself.) — In  the 
wickedness  of  his  life  he  has  surpassed  all 
former  miscreants,  and  now  he  is  trying  to 
surpass  them  in  the  wickedness  of  his  death. 

Ahellino  (with  majesty.) — Be  silent!  I 
know  your  w^hole  plot,  have  seen  your  list 
of  proscriptions,  am  well  informed  of  your 
whole  arrangement,  and,  at  the  moment  that 
I  speak  to  you,  the  officers  of  justice  are 
employed  by  my  orders,  in  seizing  the  gen- 
tlemen with  the  white  ribbons  round  their 
arms,  who  this  very  night  intended  to  over- 
turn Venice. — Be  silent,  for  defence  were 
vain. 

Andreas,  (in  astonishment.) — Abellino, 
what  is  the  meaning  of  all  this? 


ABELLINO.  183 

Ahellino. — Neither  more  nor  less  than  that 
Abellino  has  discovered  and  defeated  a  con- 
spiracy against  the  constitution  of  Venice, 
and  the  life  of  its  Doge!  The  Bravo,  in  return 
for  your  kind  intention  of  sending  him  to 
destruction  in  a  few  hour5,  has  preserved 
you  from  it. 

Vitalha^  {to  the  accused.) — Noble  Vene- 
tians, you  are  silent  under  this  heavy  charge? 

Abellino. — They  are  wise,  for  no  defence 
could  now  avail  them.  Their  troops  are  al- 
ready disarmed  and  lodged  in  separate  dun- 
geons of  the  state  prison  :  visit  them  there, 
and  you  will  learn  more.  You  now  under- 
stand, probably,  that  I  did  not  order  the  doors 
of  the  saloon  to  be  guarded  for  the  purpose 
of  seizing  the  terrible  Bravo  Abellino,  but 
of  taking  these  heroes  into  secure  custody. 
And  now,  Venetians,  compare  together  your 
conduct  and  mine!  At  the  hazard  of  my  life 
have  I  preserved  the  state  from  ruin;  disguis- 
ed as  a  Bravo  I  dared  to  enter  the  assembly 
of  these  ruthless  villains  whose  dagsjers  laid 
Venice  waste;  I  have  endured,  for  your  sakes, 
storm  and  rain,  and  frost  and  heat;  Venice 
owes  to  my  care  her  constitution  and  your 
lives;  and  yet  are  my  services  deserving  of 
no  reward?  All  this  have  I  done  for  Rosa- 
bella of  Corfu,  and  yet  will  you  withhold 
from  me  my  promised  bride?  I  have  saved 
you  from  death,  have  saved  the  honor  of 


184  ABELLINO. 

your  wives  from  the  polluter's  kiss,  and  the 
throats  of  your  innocent  children  from  the 
knife  of  the  assassin. — Men!  men!  and  yet 
will  you  send  me  to  the  scaffold?  Look  on 
this  list!  See  how  many  among  you  would 
have  bled! — Read  you  not  in  every  feature 
that  they  are  already  condemned  by  heaven 
and  their  own  consciences?  Does  a  single 
mouth  unclose  itself  in  exculpation?  Does  a 
single  movement  of  the  head  give  the  lie  to 
my  charge?  Yet  the  truth  of  what  I  have 
advanced  shall  be  made  still  more  evident." 

He  turned  himself  to  the  conspirators: — 
"Mark  me!"  said  he,  "the  first  among  you 
who  acknowledges  the  truth,  shall  receive 
a  free  pardon.  I  swear  it,  I,  the  Bravo 
Abellino!" 

The  conspirators  remained  silent.  Sudden- 
ly Memmo  started  forward,  and  threw  him- 
self trembling  at  the  Doge's  feet.  "Vene- 
tians!" he  exclaimed,  "Abellino  has  told  you 
true." 

"  'Tis  false!  'tis  false!"  exclaimed  the  ac- 
cused altogether. 

"Silence!"  cried  Abellino  in  a  voice  of 
thunder,  while  indignation  which  flamed  in 
every  feature  struck  terror  in  his  hearers, 
"silence,  I  say,  and  hear  me — or  rather  hear 
the  ghosts  of  your  victims!— Appear!  appear!" 
cried  this  dreadful  man  in  a  tone  still  louder. 


ABELLINO.  185 

Again  he  sounded  his  whistle;  the  folding 
doors  were  thrown  open,  and  there  stood 
the  Doge's  so  much  lamented  friends,  Cona- 
rij  Lomellino  and  Manfrone. 

"We  are  betrayed!"  shouted  Contarino, 
while  he  drew  out  a  concealed  dagger,  and 
plunged  it  in  his  bosom  up  to  the  very  hilt. 

And  now  what  a  scene  of  rapture  followed. 
Tears  streamed  down  the  silver  beard  of 
Andreas  as  he  rushed  into  the  arms  of  his 
long-lost  companions:  tears  bedewed  the 
cheeks  of  the  venerable  triumvirate,  as  they 
once  more  clasped  the  knees  of  their  prince, 
their  friend,  their  brother.  These  excellent 
men,  these  heroes,  never  had  Andreas  hoped 
to  meet  them  again  till  they  should  meet  in 
heaven;  and  Andreas  blessed  heaven  for , 
permitting  him  to  meet  them  once  more  on 
earth.  These  four  men,  who  had  valued  each 
other  in  the  first  dawn  of  youth,  who  had 
fought  by  each  other's  side  in  manhood,  were 
now  assembled  in  age,  and  valued  each  other 
more  than  ever.  The  spectators  gazed  with 
universal  interest  on  the  scene  before  them; 
and  the  good  old  senators  mingled  tears  of 
joy  with  those  shed  by  the  re-united  compa- 
nions. In  the  happy  delirium  of  this  mo- 
ment, nothing  but  Andreas  and  his  friends 
was  attended  to;  no  one  was  aware  that  the 
conspirators  and  the  self-murderer,  Contari- 
no, were  removed  by  the  guards  from  the 
16* 


186  ABELLINO. 

saloon;  no  one  but  Camilla  observed  Rosa- 
bella, who  threw  herself  sobbing  on  the  bo- 
som of  the  handsome  Bravo,  and  repeated, 
a  thousand  times,  "Abellino  is  then  not  a 
murderer." 

At  length  they  began  to  recollect  them- 
selves— they  looked  round  them — and  the 
first  words  which  broke  from  every  lip  were, 
"Hail,  saviour  of  Venice!"  The  roof  rang 
with  the  name  of  Abellino,  and  unnumbered 
blessings  accompanied  the  name. 

That  veryAbellino,  who,  not  an  hour  before, 
had  been  doomed  to  the  scaffold,  by  the 
whole  assembly,  now  stood  calm  and  digni- 
fied as  a  god  before  the  adoring  spectators; 
and  now^  he  viewed,  with  complacency,  the 
the  men  whose  lives  he  had  saved,  and  now 
his  eye  dwelt  with  rapture  on  the  w^oman 
whose  love  was  the  reward  of  all  his  dan- 
gers. 

"Abellino!"  said  Andreas,  advancing  to 
the  Bravo,  and  extending  his  hand  towards 
him. 

"I  am  not  Abellino,"  replied  he  smiling, 
w^hile  he  pressed  the  Doge's, hand  respect- 
fully to  his  lips,  "neither  am  I  Flodoardo  of 
Florence.  I  am  by  birth  a  Neapolitan,  and 
by  name  Rosalvo;  the  death  of  my  invete- 
rate enemy,  the  prince  ofMonaldeschi,  makes 
it  no  longer  necessary  to  conceal  who  I  real- 
ly am." 


ABELLINO.  187 

^'Monaldeschi?"  repeated  Andreas  with  a 
look  of  anxiety. 

"Fear  not,"  continued  Rosalvo,  "Mon- 
aldeschi,  it  is  true,  fell  by  my  hand,  but  fell 
in  honorable  combat.  The  blood  which 
stained  his  sword  flowed  from  my  veins, 
and  in  his  last  moments  conscience  asserted 
her  empire  in  his  bosom.  He  died  not  till 
he  had  written  in  his  tablets,  the  most  posi- 
tive declaration  of  my  innocence  as  to  the 
crimes  with  which  his  hatred  had  contrived 
to  blacken  me;  and  he  also  instructed  me 
by  what  means  I  might  obtain,  at  Naples, 
the  restoration  of  my  forfeited  estates  and 
the  re-establishment  of  my  injured  honour. 
Those  means  have  been  already  efficacious, 
and  all  Naples  is,  by  this  time,  informed  of 
the  arts  by  which  Monaldeschi  procured  my 
banishment,  and  of  the  many  plots  which  he 
laid  for  my  destruction;  plots,  which  made 
it  necessary  for  me  to  drop  my  own  charac- 
ter, and  never  to  appear  but  in  disguise. 
After  various  wanderings,  chance  led  me  to 
Venice;  my  appearance  was  so  much  altered, 
that  I  dreaded  not  discovery — but  I  dreaded 
(and  with  reason)  perishing  in  your  streets 
with  hunger.  In  this  situation,  accident 
brought  me  acquainted  with  the  banditti,  by 
whom  Venice  was  then  infested.  I  willingly 
united  myself  to  their  society,  partly  w^ith  the 
view  of  purifying  the  repubhc  from  the  pre- 


188  ABELLINO. 

sence  of  these  wretches,  and  partly  in  the 
hope  of  discovering  through  them  the  more 
illustrious  villains  by  whom  their  daggers 
w^ere  employed.  I  was  successful;  I  deli- 
vered the  banditti  up  to  justice,  and  stabbed 
their  captain  in  Rosabella's  sight.  I  was  now 
the  only  bravo  in  Venice;  every  scoundrel 
"was  obliged  to  have  recourse  to  me:  I  dis- 
covered the  plans  of  the  C( inspirators,  and 
new  you  know  them  also.  I  found  that  the 
deaths  of  the  Doge's  three  friends  had  been 
determined  on;  and  in  order  to  obtain  full 
confidence  with  the  confederates,  it  was  ne- 
cessary to  persuade  them  that  these  men  had 
fallen  beneath  my  dagger.  No  sooner  had 
my  plan  been  formed,  than  I  imparted  it  to 
Lomellino;  he;  and  he  only  was  my  confidant 
in  this  business.  He  presented  me  to  the 
Doge  as  the  son  of  a  deceased  friend;  he  as- 
sisted me  with  his  advice;  he  furnished  me 
with  keys  to  those  doors  of  the  private  gar- 
dens which  no  one  was  permitted  to  pass 
through  except  Andreas  and  his  particular 
friends,  and  which  frequently  enabled  me  to 
elude  pursuit;  he  showed  me  several  private 
passages  in  the  palace,  by  which  I  could 
penetrate  unobserved  even  into  the  Doge's 
laed-chamber.  When  the  time  for  his  disap- 
pearance arrived,  he  not  only  readily  con- 
sented to  lie  concealed  in  a  retreat  known 
only  to  ourselves,  but  was  also  the  means  of 


ABELLTNO.  189 

inducing  Manfrone  and  Conari  to  join  him 
in  his  retirement,  till  the  fortunate  issue  of 
this  day's  adventure  permitted  me  to  set  them 
once  more  at  liberty.  The  banditti  exist 
no  longer;  the  conspirators  are  in  chains;  my 
plans  are  accomplished;  and  now,  Venetians, 
if  you  still  think  him  deserving  of  it,  here 
stands  the  Bravo  Abellino,  and  you  may 
lead  him  to  the  scaffold  when  you  will!" 

"To  the  scaffold?"  exclaimed  at  once  the 
Doge,  the  senators,  and  the  whole  crowd  of 
nobili;  and  every  one  burst  into  enthusiastic 
praises  of  the  dauntless  Neapolitan. 

"Oh!  Abellino,"  cried  Andreas,  while  he 
wiped  away  a  tear;  "I  would  gladly  give  my 
ducal  bonnet  to  be  such  a  Bravo  as  thou  hast 
been! — 'Doge,'  didst  thou  once  say  to  me, 
'thou  and  I  are  the  two  greatest  men  in  Ve- 
nice:' But  oh!  how  much  greater  is  the 
Bravo  than  the  Doge!  Rosabella  is  that 
jewel  than  which  I  have  nothing  in  the 
world  more  precious;  Rosabella  is  dearer 
to  me  than  an  emperor's  crown;  Rosabella 
is  thine." 

"Abellino!"  said  Rosabella,  and  extended 
her  hand  to  the  handsome  Bravo. 

"Triumph!"  cried  he;  "Rosabella  is  the 
Bravo's  bride!"  and  he  clasped  the  blushing 
maid  to  his  bosom. 


190  ABELLINO. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CONCLUSION. 

And  now  it  would  be  not  at  all  amiss  to 
make  Count  Rosalvo  sit  down  quietly  be- 
tween the  good  old  Doge  and  his  lovely 
niece,  and  then  cause  him  to  relate  the  mo- 
tive of  jMonaldeschi's  hatred — in  what  man- 
ner he  lost  Valeria — what  crimes  were  im- 
puted to  him,  and  how  he  escaped  from  the 
assassins  sent  in  pursuit  of  him  by  his  ene- 
my; how  he  had  long  wandered  from  place 
to  place,  and  how  he  had  at  length  learnt 
(during  his  abode  in  Bohemia  with  a  gang 
of  gypsies)  such  means  of  disguising  his  fea- 
tures as  enabled  him  to  defy  the  keenest 
penetration  to  discover  in  the  beggar  Abel- 
lino  the  once  admired  Count  R,osalvo;  how 
in  this  disguise  he  had  returned  to  Italy; 
and  how  Lomellino,  ascertaining  that  he 
\vas  universally  believed  at  Naples,  to  have 
long  since  perished  by  shipwreck,  (and 
therefore  that  neither  the  officers  of  the  In- 
quisition nor  the  assassins  employed  by  his 
enemy   w^ere   likely  to    trouble  themselves 


ABELLINO.  191 

any  more  about  him)  he  had  ventured  to 
resume,  with  some    shght    alterations,    his 
own  appearance  at  Venice; — how  the  arri- 
val   of  Monaldeschi    had    obliged    him  to 
conceal  himself,  till  an  opportunity  offered 
of  presenting  himself   to  the  Prince  when 
unattended,  and  of  demanding  satisfaction 
for  his  injuries;  how  he  had  been  himself 
wounded  in  several  places  by  his  antagonist, 
though  the  combat  finally  terminated  in  his 
favor;  how  he  had  resolved  to  make  use  of 
Monaldeschi's  death  to  terrify  Andreas  still 
further,  and  of  Parozzi's  conspiracy  to  ob- 
tain Rosabella's  hand  of  the  Doge;  how  he 
bad  trembled  lest  the  heart  of  his  mistress 
should  have    been  only  captivated  by  the 
romantic  appearance  of  the  adventurer  Flo- 
doardo,  and  have  rejected  him'when  known 
to  be  the  Bravo  Abellino;  how  he  had  re- 
solved to  make  use  of  the   terror  inspired 
by  the  assassin  to  put  her  love  to  the  seve- 
rest trial;  and  how  had   she  failed  in  that 
trial,  he  had  determined   to   renounce  the 
inconstant   maid  forever;  with  many  other 
hows^  whys,  and  lulierefores,  which,  not  be- 
ing explained,  will,  I  doubt  not,  leave  much 
of  this  tale  inA^olved  in  mystery:  but  before 
I  begin  Rosalvo's  history,  I  must  ask  two 
questions — 

First,  Do  my  readers  like  the  manner  in 
which  I  relate  adventures? 


192  ABELLINO. 

Secondly,  If  my  readers  do  like  my  man- 
ner of  relating  adventures,  can  1  employ  my 
time  better  than  in  relating  them? 

When  these  questions  are  answered,  I  may 
possibly  resume  my  pen.  In  the  mean  while, 
Ladies  and  Gentlemen,  good  night,  and 
pleasant  dreams  attend  you! 


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